


The Butterfly's Shelter

by Fangirltothefullest, wisepuma23



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Adoption, Adorable, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF Logan, Bad Decisions, Baker!Patton, Blood and Violence, Did I mention angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, I swear, Kid Fic, Kidnapping, Light Torture, Longest Recurring Villain is Money, M/M, Minor Character Death, Moral Ambiguity, Pining, Platonic Prinxiety - Freeform, Road Trips, Single Parent Logan, Temporarily Unrequited Love, both Virgil and Roman are kids, dad!logan, dad!patton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirltothefullest/pseuds/Fangirltothefullest, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: Logan dreamed about becoming a father all his life. However, he finds being a father on paper is very different than actually being a father to a real living breathing child. Virgil was three months old when he was adopted by Logan Crofters but his eyes spark with a curiosity, unlike other babies at his age. It both fills Logan with pride and complete utter dread. Meanwhile, he doesn't understand how his best friend, Patton Milena, was able to pull off being a single Dad to his five-year-old son, Roman. When he asks, Patton laughs until he nearly pukes, and just pats him on the shoulder.Everything changes after Virgil's first birthday.Logan will finally understand what it truly means to be a father beyond yanking him from open sockets and burping him as according to page 63 of his parenting manual.





	1. Can I Refund This?

**Author's Note:**

> Behold! It's here!! Our collab between me and Tashi! It all started because of one scene from my fic ([We Were Never Welcome Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13447569/chapters/30822678)) and we have been excitedly brainstorming and planning this Dad!Logan AU!!! 
> 
> I also want to say thank you to our beta [my-happy-little-bean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_happy_little_bean)!!! She's amazing and she really helped us polish our chapter for tonight. 
> 
> It will be updated every two weeks so keep your eyes out for that!

            Footsteps tapped along tiled floors as Logan sat in the waiting room. That universal rhythmic drum of nerves and stress made Logan aware of his own finger tapping against the chair he sat on. He couldn’t help it. Parents, nurses, and children roamed the bright hallways of the pediatric wing. His leg bounced in place as children laughed and he heard their little giggles fill his ears, his mind, his very heart.

            Soon,  _soon_ , his thoughts cried out in agony. He noticed a mother across from him tilt her head in concern, then blossomed into pity. Logan felt hot embarrassment fill his chest and forced his leg and finger to sit still, yet the bundle of nerves that sat in his chest like an iron ball did not leave.

            He knew it was expected for fathers to experience stress on their very first day as a father. Normal, even. Logan looked down, but he wasn’t like most fathers. Most fathers didn’t need to go through a million hoops, calls, and interviews by social workers and state officials alike. Even if it had been a hassle for the past two years, he much preferred the screening process to be complicated and thorough; it made for a better result in the end. Logan did not balk at the mountain of paperwork that stood in his way.

              It was worth it.

            He was prepared as far as the home, career, and state requirements seemed to suggest and the paperwork was filled out neatly and orderly. Logan had crossed all his t’s and dotted his i’s. It had taken twice as long to make sure everything was in order because they had lost his application twice when he’d faxed it. It was as if the world was trying to deny him. But Logan was not one to give up. Not after so long of dreaming about this.

             Yet now that he, Logan Crofters, was faced with the actual premise of facing the children and selecting one to adopt? His heart pounded in his ears and threatened to burst out of his chest and onto the sanitized floors. His palms were sweaty no matter how many times he wiped down his slacks. He was handling it. Kinda.

             Beyond the door to his left laid a plentitude of babies in their cribs. He swallowed hard. How was he supposed to choose? What if he _couldn’t_ choose?

            His hand pressed up against his tie, habitually adjusting it against the black of his button down, and pushed up his glasses. The habit took the edge off his nerves; at least it didn’t feel like his heart was going to bounce straight out of his chest cavity anymore. Yet his mind clamored with questions still, as it often did.

             What if he wasn’t ready? What if this silly little childhood dream to be a father wasn’t meant to be?

             Logan shut his eyes against the roar of what if, _what if_?

            “Mister Crofters?” a voice called out gently, snapping Logan out of his thoughts at the familiarity of it; it was none other than the social worker assigned to his adoption case. The man’s pleasant smile pulled him from his thoughts. Logan admired the dark green tie adorned around the social worker’s neck. Different from last time’s baby blue. Logan shook his head and immediately stood to shake the kind man’s hand.

           “Dr. Picani,” Logan greeted with a rare smile, and the other’s blue eyes crinkled behind his own pair of spectacles. Of all the social workers that could be handling the infant department of the adoption agency, Dr. Emile Picani was one of the best. Excitable but gentle, pleasant to talk to and understanding; from the moment Logan met him, he knew this man’s life goal was getting these children to good homes. His kindness above all was what sold Logan that his case was in good hands.

            “It’s good to see you, Logan. Are you ready to meet the little ones?” Dr. Picani gestured to the open doorway and Logan nodded.

           “I’ve been ready for the past two years, sir; it’d be illogical that I wouldn’t be ready,” Logan said with an edge of confidence and followed him in through the second set of doors. It wasn’t true, and he was terrified beyond belief. He wanted to run to the nearest window and scream. Logan hoped the nurses didn’t tell Dr. Picani about the panic attack he had in the bathroom half an hour ago either. But by Isaac Newton, he wanted this more than _anything_.

           As soon as he entered the room, his ears were immediately assaulted with the sounds of babbling and giggling. Tinkling laughter rang through the air like bells. Logan could see a row of cribs lining the back wall of what looked like a large playroom with baby toys scattered about the floor. There were a few babies who were sleeping, and in another room, Logan could see a couple of heavy-duty cribs fashioned with medical supplies.

           None of the babies appeared to be in any of those, though he could only see a couple machines through a cracked glimpse of the sterile room. Nurses and caretakers held some of the babies, feeding them while others played with them on the floor. Warmth filled him up from the bottom of his toes to the top of his head as he leaned over a crib.

          The pink baby within burst out into giggles at his appearance. Logan blinked back tears before the other doctors and nurses could see and moved away before he disturbed it further. They looked so… _fragile_ and lovely in a way that he could not put into words. Logan desperately wanted to sit down and never leave the ward again. If he could have dubbed this his new favorite place, he would have.

            Logan could see quite a few young volunteers helping out and Dr. Picani smiled at Logan’s awe. Laughter lines deepened around his light blue eyes with amusement and Logan found himself smiling despite his own efforts to appear professional.

            “These are most of our available babies ready for adoption.” Dr. Picani told him. “They’ve all been properly vaccinated and such. We are currently housing only one child, an infant, who is in need of medical care and he’s under observation.” Logan frowned in concern, but Dr. Picani handwaved with a beam. “But he’s as strong as Lapis Lazuli, I just know it. He’ll be fine. When you’re done here I can take you there to see him if you like!”

            Logan sighed in relief and nodded as he peered about the room. There were so many, how was he supposed to _choose_? He shuffled in place, torn in too many directions, and Dr. Picani chuckled behind him.

            “They don’t bite Logan; that comes when they start getting teeth,” he teased and lifted one little baby from a crib.

           “This is little Anna,” he cooed and held her out to Logan who lifted her into his arms and his chest _ached_. Her rosy cheeks, pudgy little fingers, and eyes that twinkled like sapphires made his heart melt into a puddle. Her eyes lit up and squealed as she kicked her feet. He chuckled and bounced her without thinking.

             Dr. Picani smiled. “Aw, see? Paternal instincts kicking in already.”

            “Perhaps,” Logan mused and his fear and apprehension of the situation seemed to drain away, “and what happened to you, chubby little thing?” He asked her as if she could answer. “Where are your parents?”

            “Teenage pregnancy. Oof.” Dr. Picani shook his head as he checked her file. “The mother has requested being able to visit. However....” He frowned as Logan’s heart leapt up his throat. “... she specifically requested that she wants her child raised by a couple. You’re not-”

            “No,” Logan replied with a sigh and gently ran his hand over her rosy cheeks one last time as he set her back down in her crib with the utmost care, ignoring the way his soul _screamed_. “Single.”

             “Mmm indeed. Forgive me, I almost forgot, which was silly of me.” He sighed. “Well, there are plenty of other children whose parents have-”

             But he was cut off by an ear-splitting scream shook the room, causing the other babies to startle and cry.

             “Oh no, oh dear-!” Dr. Picani and another caretaker moved quickly toward the room of medical cribs. “Forgive us, this little gem is in a lot of pain.”

           Logan followed worriedly; the screaming and shrieking tugged at his heart. He entered the other room where they shut the door behind him and he watched Dr. Picani gently reach his hands into the crib and bring the _tiniest_ infant he’d ever seen from the crib. He was not hooked up to any monitors but the room was definitely warmer than the other and smelled even more sterile.

             “Is the baby alright?” Logan asked, tone laced heavily with concern, and Dr. Picani nodded as the baby screamed and screamed to no avail.

            “Colic,” he said softly as he rubbed the baby’s back in soothing motions. “Poor thing has a lot of tummy pain. But he screams so loudly we can’t keep him near the other little ones or they don’t sleep.” He winced as another wail pierced the room. “I am so sorry, it’s like a Howler Owl is in here. I offer my sincerest condolences for your ears.”

          But Logan wasn’t looking at Dr. Picani; his eyes were locked onto the crying little baby, who was sobbing hard enough to almost puke in the other’s gentle grip. His heart ached, yearning to protect him and he held his hands out.

             “May I?” he asked.

           “Oh! Of course!” Dr. Picani said with a veiled note of surprise as he set him in Logan’s waiting arm, “Don’t shake him, it’s quite tempting for frustrated parents; I highly advise against it no matter how loud he cries.”

           “I would never,” Logan whispered as he held the squirming infant closer, supporting his head in the cradle of his arm. “I would rather die than harm this little teardrop of starlight.”

         The baby had a tuft of black hair stark against pale sickly skin that sheened with sweat as he squirmed in his gentle yet firm hold. He was so small, a lima bean almost, while the other babies around the ward were hulking giants by comparison. His hands and legs kicked as he let out another hearty wail.

          Logan shushed him gently as he bent down and let his forehead bump against the fragile infant with the barest of touches. His skin so soft and supple even if it was slick with tears and sweat at the moment. Those tears bigger than any he had ever seen on a child; filled with so much discomfort and sadness, they fell in big rivers from where they pooled inside his eyes. His pale little face was so blotchy.

           Logan felt his heartstrings pulled taut like a bowstring and the pang in his chest returned at the sight of his unyielding struggles.

         “I know you’re in pain, little one. You have known nothing else, have you?” Logan whispered, reverent in his tone and his only answer was shuddering, unending sobs. “You are incredibly tiny, aren’t you? Hmm, how old are you?”

           He heard the rustle of papers again, and then Dr. Picani’s buttery smooth reply of “About three months now.”

        “He’s so young....” Logan said gently and soothingly shushed the baby. He squirmed and cried and it was loud in his ears, but he couldn’t help it and Logan understood that. “Where are his parents?”

           For the first time, Dr. Picani lost that perpetual smile.

          “He’s an orphan. His parents died when his house caught on fire. Firefighters said it was a faulty oven.” The doctor leaned over to brush a hand over Virgil’s head. “Boy’s a miracle, I tell you. He spent weeks in the infant ICU to recover the damage in his lungs.” Dr. Picani smiled as he brushed away a tear, clearly distressed but proud of the little bean. “He is a fighter.”

           “But what about the rest of his relatives?”

           Dr. Picani pulled away as a dark look crossed his face.

          “None that would take him. They refused to accept a ‘devil baby’.” He glared down at the file he held. “Their words not mine. His relatives think he’s bad luck and don’t consider him part of the family tree. Disowned and discarded as if something this small and helpless could bring misfortune on them like some Scooby Doo villain.”

          “Utter nonsense.” Logan resisted the urge to hold the baby tighter in his arms, as if he could shield from the dangerous ignorance of the world. Logan shifted from foot to foot as the baby calmed into mere sniffles; a respite from his pained sobbing. Logan stared at the baby he held, swaddled in soft blue blankets, and remembered the long days of waiting.

         Dreams haunted him as a child, of a carriage and pealing laughter as children ran around clutching at his legs. Soft blurry dreams of him rushing to put a band-aid on a skinned knee, small hands that grasped around his neck, and of everlasting sunny days as he played with them in their white picket fence yard. Fatherhood felt more like a wonderful dream than a societal milestone. It was his one life goal, more than his career, and more than his love life. He’d been dreaming of the idea long before he even knew what it entailed.

        Round dark eyes met his own and he felt the breath knocked out of him. The awareness that stared back at him fascinated him. This was a human in the making. It will go through various developmental stages until one day it will dream a little dream of its own. Rockstar, astrobiologist, writer, or even stunt devil.

          He rocked the baby gently, never breaking his stare; his sniffles disappeared as he watched Logan in rapt awe. Curiosity, even. The infant squirmed in his swaddle and thrusted a pudgy hand up at him. His little fingers clenched around his own finger and he watched the baby’s eyes light up despite the pain.

           “Oh,” Dr. Picani said, his voice the gentlest he’s ever heard in two years of knowing him. “Are you quite alright?”

           “Yes, why do you ask?” Logan croaked as the baby tilted his little head in surprise.

           “Sir, you’re crying.”

          Logan blinked, but it was true. Tears leaked out of his eyes in steady trickles and he could feel the cold of their rivers running down the sides of his face. He hadn’t even realized. He wondered how strange he must look with tears dripping down his cheeks and he could do nothing more than blink at the doctor in dumbfounded stupidity. He heard a quiet little squeak from the baby he held as he squirmed. His tears were cold but his arms were too full to brush them away.

           “This one.” Logan said firmly, facing Dr. Picani head on. “ _Please_.”

          Dr. Picani’s eyes went wide at the uncharacteristic voice crack. “A-are you sure? We have other children in the playroom that will be more suited to your needs. He will be very fussy and it will take quite a while for him to recover yet so he may scream all that time. I rather recommend him to a family with experience already and-”

           “This one.” Logan said, his voice laced with hard steel.

           This was the child he wanted to raise; the one he wanted to dedicate his life to. In an instant he could imagine this little one’s future and its trillions of different changing variables, he knew with absolute certainty he wanted to give this baby a home and love him to the best of his ability.

           “What’s his name?” He asked with a smile.

           Dr. Picani scratched something on his clipboard and looked up, his eyes searching into Logan one last time before his shoulders dropped.

           “Virgil. His name is Virgil.”

         Logan pulled his finger away from Virgil’s grip to trace his round cheeks. Still that distressing shade of paleness. Virgil let out a little gurgle and leaned into his warm hand. If he wasn’t crying before, he certainly was now. Tears blurred his vision so much he could barely see. He didn’t believe in a Heaven, but the sheer amounts of dopamine flooding into his system made him more susceptible to believe he was there. Virgil’s brown eyes twinkled with faint starlight.

           He was never more sure of anything in his entire life. Previous worries and concerns be damned. He wanted to raise Virgil as his son (or any other gender he was comfortable with later in life) as his own. Logan never understood feelings, or why the thought of letting Virgil go made his skin itchy, but he did understand that this was it. His dream: realized. He had no wife, and no man to take his hand now at twenty-six years old. He had accepted it was never going to happen.

           So Logan couldn’t bear to wait another day.

           Virgil gurgled and let out a small little giggle as he squirmed in Logan’s careful hold.

           “Yes,” Logan smiled, a soft and quiet one as he looked up at Dr. Picani. “Thank you. I cannot express it enough but… thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> hope you enjoyed! :P
> 
> and it would be awesome if you left some kudos and comments :D!
> 
> [here is the tumblr version!](http://wisepuma23.tumblr.com/post/177643944523/the-butterflys-shelter-chapter-1)


	2. Hey IT? Uninstall Feelings.exe right now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan finally arrives home with Virgil and receives some interesting voicemails.
> 
>  **Word count** \- 3, 437
> 
>  **Warnings** \- None

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first of all, this is a bit late due to life rip bUT IM SO EXCITED THIS CHAPTER IS OUT!!!!!
> 
> Again, thank you to our beta my-happy-little-bean!!! She's super lovely and she's really great. Also I had thesocialbookwormwrites as moral support and punched holes in my chapter to make it better. Thanks. And A ROUND OF APPLAUSE for tashi!!! she really went ALL OUT for this chapter and gosh my heart is FULL!!! Am I gonna use the notes every time to gush about my friends? yes 
> 
> and HUGE THANKS to all of our comments last chapter, I see ya, and i love y'all!! <33
> 
> [ Thanks so much you guys! I love all the praise about the writing and the art, you've all been so supportive and we love you! Thank you Puma too, because you really help flood life into this fic! - Tashi ]

Rain pattered gently on the windows of Logan’s car. The streets sheened with a wetness that only came from the first rain of the season. Logan tapped his fingers on the wheel as he waited for the light to change. The rain, the distant honks, and even his fidgeting wasn’t enough to tune out the crying baby in the back seat. Dr. Picani was correct that Virgil would cry and it held true for the past thirty minutes of the car ride.

He vastly underestimated the lung capacity of a three month old.

Logan’s shoulders twitched with tension and his back hunched over his wheel into a question mark as his eyes frantically scanned every part of his environment.

The light changed to a soft green, but Logan did not go. He looked left and right. Then left and right again. He had to be sure. Another left and _–_

A honk startled him so badly he yelped.

Logan pushed gently on the gas pedal and rolled forward. He let out a breath as he crossed the intersection. No semi-trucks came barreling through. Or drunk teenagers. Or sports car assholes. Logan knew it was an unlikely probability of events but…

Virgil’s screams echoed in the car reminded him of his precious cargo. Logan glanced at the bright yellow ‘Baby on Board’ sticker he put up on the rear window. He bought the thing a year ago when he made it past the hardest hoops of the adoption process. No longer collecting dust in his backseat.

Logan swallowed as he turned onto the familiar streets of home. A few more turns and he’ll be able to coast into his apartment parking garage. A tiny, wretched sob pinched his heart and his shoulders drew higher another notch. His fingers were as white as glue on his dark steering wheel.

His lungs shuddered with relief as he drifted up to the parking guard. Mr. Anselm was a kind man with hair as red as his uniform.

Logan rolled the window down and looked up to Mr. Anselm with a wince as Virgil’s cries spilled out of the car. Dr. Picani wasn’t lying that the crying would be hard on the ears.

“How do you do, Mr. Anselm?” Logan said as he held up his mandated red parking pass up to him.

“Again, it’s Peter,” Mr. Anselm drawled and pushed up his hat as he leaned on his window sill. “And I have to ask about that little guy you got there. What’s the lad’s name?”

“Virgil, he’s my son.” Logan said with giddiness with a hint of disbelief.

_Son._

_He’s_ **_my_ ** _son._

How extraordinary he can make that claim! Logan found himself making a most unusual expression and despite his attempts, he couldn’t tug it off. His muscles moved against his will. Was there something wrong?

“Wowza,” Mr. Anselm whistled. “Boy, I have never seen you smile, Logan. You look lovely as a peach!”

Logan clenched and unclenched his fingers on the wheel.

“It-it hasn’t been that long,” he stuttered. “Never? That is a quite strong word. I-I-I, you–”

Mr. Anselm pressed the green button on the dash of his desk. “Keep it up, Logan! And next time I better hear Peter, you understand?”

The parking bar raised with a groan as Mr. Anhelm waved to him. Logan again tried to tug down his own smile but the boy’s smile was infectious, curse him. He rolled his window back up and ignored how cold his arm had gotten from the rain. Logan drove through the grey parking lot and found his allocated spot.

“We’re almost there,” Logan said over Virgil’s stuttering sobs. “I’ll finally tend to you.” Logan turned the ignition off with a click and looked up into the rear mirror with his eyes crinkling in sympathy. “All of this must be frightening to you, not only that, but the pain you’re in? It’s understandable.”

Logan got out and hurried to the back seat. For a heartstopping moment, he believed Virgil was no longer there despite all auditory and visual evidence that confirmed it. Logan opened the door and his breath caught. Virgil’s face was red as the car seat he was strapped in. At the hospital, he fiddled with the straps for a good five minutes until Dr. Picani had to tell him no less than three times it was “fine as a fiddle”.

Fiddles still broke.

Logan clicked the straps off and gently lifted him up into his arms. Relief spread through him at the quickly familiar weight. He rocked him and pet his back gently and Virgil’s crying seemed to still a little more, so the screaming turned into sorrowful whimpers.

“That’s it.” He cooed softly, “There you go.”

Logan was home.... and he was with Virgil. His boy; his.... his new son. His thoughts echoed with _Virgil, Virgil;_ so much that he had a feeling it wouldn’t go away for the next eighteen years. Or even beyond.

Virgil sniffled against the crook of his elbow. Logan looked back into the darkness of the back seat and paled at the heavy baby bag waiting for him. He packed one just in case. Fortune favours the prepared.

But Virgil.

Logan looked between the bag and Virgil. He could risk doing it all in one trip? An annoying little voice screamed at him, _no._ Virgil wasn’t some textbooks from the bookstore to balance with overloaded groceries! _No, no, you’ll drop him. And ruin him forever._

Logan tapped his fingers against the soft fabric of Virgil’s swaddle. Tap, tap, tap. Rain trickled through his hair. Indecision froze his bones in place.

Virgil hiccuped and reality slammed back into him. Parenting tips flooded into him, _don’t let your kids run in the rain! They’ll catch a cold._

Logan closed the car door with a quick bump of his hips and hurried up into his rental.

He didn’t want to fuck this up.

Logan shook his hair in the entryway and threw his keys onto the stand without jostling Virgil too much. Virgil’s little face was scrunched up from the cold of the rain.

Logan sat down on his grey couch (make sure to cradle his head, he’s top-heavy) and carefully flicked the droplets off him.

Logan peered around the pristine room. He’d gotten rid of everything that could hurt the child. Non-toxic plants, covered electrical outlets, removal of sharpened edges of furniture; he’d baby-proofed the whole house. Baby parenting books were stacked neatly on every surface and bookshelf he had, some mottled with age while others still shone fresh off the printing press; after all, new tactics and findings in developmental psychology came out all the time.

But here... holding him in his arms as Virgil had started to finally fall asleep from the stressful car ride, Logan saw just how tiny, helpless and fragile he was. Porcelain and delicate as a flower. Dr. Picani warned him that Virgil was at risk for asthma due to the irreparable damage to his tiny lungs, and to look out for signs of any worsening signs for his current condition of Colic in the next week or two.

Virgil squirmed in his grip and started to cry again. Logan’s mental flashcards fumbled to the ground in the face of this new development as a million reasons ran through his head. Was it from pain? Or had he defecated? Is it a pocket of gas that troubled him? Hungry, scared, or a call for attention?

The preparation bag drifted back into his thoughts again. He didn’t want to take Virgil out in the freezing rain again, but he had to retrieve it. Decisions, decisions, and all impacted the future of his son.

Giddiness bubbled up again; _son_ , he had a son! Unlike Patton’s puns, he thought it would never get old.

Virgil whimpered and he was wrenched out of thoughts. Logan shushed Virgil gently. “I know Virgil, just a minute. I need to go retrieve your things.”

Virgil pouted, his lips trembling, and Logan twitched with a faint smile. “Already giving me attitude? Do not worry, I shall come straight back.”

Logan stood up and made his way to the _–Virgil’s_ bedroom. It was the only room with a spot of color in his house. The sky-blue walls with pearly white lining were a deliberate choice because he read the color blue was beneficial for babies. A calming effort, he supposed.

Logan laid Virgil slowly onto his back into the lavender crib with translucent frills on the bottom. Nate had insisted on it.

Logan ran a finger over Virgil’s soft, tear-stained cheek.

“I will come back, I swear it to you. Just a few minutes, no more.” He broke into a smile as Virgil tugged his finger towards his mouth. “Ah, it appears you’re hungry. Afraid to disappoint you, but my flesh won’t feed you. Or at least, not until you grow in teeth, then we can talk.”

Logan walked out of the room with extreme difficulty. His feet stopped every few steps. So often did he entertain the thought that Virgil’s room held the kind of great gravitational pull that science has never discovered before. His lips twitched at the thought; it wasn’t _entirely_ incorrect, it was scientifically proven that stars had immense gravity.

And Virgil, at the speed of light, became his northern star.

He didn’t want to leave him even if it was just a few steps away. He had only just gotten him home ( _their_ home!) and he knew it was silly but his heart pulled for him to go back just to make sure he was still ok. No, he had to do this; it was for Virgil’s benefit.

The rain had lightened to a drizzle. The wetness on his cheeks was merely the result of the rain. Clearly, obviously, _no other reason whatsoever_. But then again, Nate would call it “stinking bullshit”.

Logan huffed out laughter through his scratchy throat. His cheeks ached; who knew that smiling would be so strenuous? Logan hauled the pale pink bag higher on his shoulder and shut the door with a satisfying thud.

Logan closed the front door and fell against it. His knees wobbled as he resisted the urge to just collapse in the entryway. He pulled his tie down until it laid loose around his neck, and he untucked his shirt. His muscles were like a coiled spring beneath his pristine exterior. He was home.

With a new member of the household.

_A son._

Logan shook his head. His thoughts were snapped out of his relief by a muffled sob. Ah yes, Virgil. There was no time for dawdling when he had a son to tend to.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and left it next to his keys on the stand. With a few clicks, his voicemail automatically started to go through his messages. He had silenced it the whole day because he didn’t want to be distracted.

Logan threw the bag onto the couch and pulled it open with a loud zip. A sea of diapers and milk bottles and other implements greeted him. He absently listened to the voicemail messages as he fumbled for a specific tool. It was in one of the medical kits below. He unzipped and zipped a plethora of the bag’s many pockets as he looked through them.

_Hey Logan! Nate here._

Logan froze at the familiar voice, his ears perking up. The distant opening to NCIS  played in the background of the message. He was watching his silly police procedurals again, no doubt. However, he found it endearing that Nate found passion even if it wasn’t towards a more productive goal. He could rattle off episode numbers and actors off the top of his head for every police show in existence.

_Wanted to say congrats, man. Today is the day right? Uhhhh….forgot what I was going to say. Oh right, good job Dad! You made it._

Logan’s heart fluttered at the word ‘Dad’. One day Virgil will call him ‘Dad’ and he isn’t sure he’ll survive the day he does. Logan shook his head and found the right medical kit. He needed to check on Virgil’s health status after he fed him. Another sob rang from the bedroom like an accusation.

“I am coming,” Logan called out and made his way toward the rest of the house. “Just a minute, Virgil. Soon you’ll feel much better.”

_Yello, Dad here!_

Logan froze at the entrance to Virgil’s room. He tightened his grip on the medical kit as Virgil’s crying grew distant. The voicemail went silent, the background scratchy with white noise. Logan’s stomach roiled and his world rocked on its axis, as it often did when Patton spoke.

_I know you don’t understand how important Playdate Saturday is to Roman but you have to put the books down at some point, Lo! All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Roman put that down please!_

Something clattered in the background and there was a cat’s yowl. There was a rustle as if Patton was moving to another room. Logan could almost picture Patton hugging himself as he did that “if you don’t reply right now, I’m going to cry” sigh.

_Logan please. It’s been two weeks since we’ve seen you and Roman misses his nerd uncle. I guess I’m just...worried about the radio silence. It’s not like you to keep something from me, right?_

Talons of shame dragged its nails down his back as his thoughts sloshed around like a shaken bottle. The crackle of silence over the speaker felt just as heavy as Patton’s disappointed stare. Logan didn’t even tell him. That snide little voice laughed at his hypocrisy. Logan’s throat tightened as the silence seemed to last eons.  

_Logan, I–oh! Shoot! Roman put- put the sword down–_

The voicemail clicked to a stop. There were no more messages. Logan shuddered out a sigh. He would need to confront Patton on ‘Playdate Saturday’ and inform him of...his new son. Logan leaned heavily against the doorframe as the cloud of happiness he floated on faded away like mist.

Then he heard a faint gurgle.  

No. He will not dawdle on what-ifs and personal dramas. Virgil’s sniffles was what took priority and he needed to tend to his son. Logan pushed himself off the doorway and padded inside as he opened the health kit in a swift motion.

Logan leaned over the bassinet and picked up the tiny little air pump from a pouch to clear Virgil’s airway of snot. Virgil scrunched up and pulled on his fingers again. Logan smiled as his chest burst with pride, but

“Nono, silly little one, that’s not a bottle,” he chuckled as he gently tugged them back. “I’ll go get your milk. And I’ll give you the grand tour of your new home.”

Logan reached in and picked up Virgil back into his arms. He padded into the kitchen and picked up a bottle of formula from the fridge he’d prepared before picking him up. He glanced down at Virgil as he heated the bottle under running water. The rush of water a gentle lullaby for his nerves.

Logan noticed it was a recurring pattern that Virgil’s cries always quietened down once he was in Logan’s arms. Virgil’s eyes twinkled with that curiosity again as he squirmed in his swaddle. Virgil watched him with rapt attention with wide, _starlit_ brown eyes as he brought the bottle closer.

Perhaps his infatuation wasn’t one-sided for once.

Logan yelped in surprise as Virgil sucked on eagerly with a pop.

“Slow down,” Logan chided with his best stern voice. Virgil didn’t listen. Logan had to keep pulling the bottle back so he wouldn’t drink too fast.

_Don’t let him choke, support his head, the arm has to be 45 degrees. Optimal bottle feeding position is while seated with the baby on your lap._

Logan fumbled with a jolt as he realized he wasn’t following the expert patented instructions. Logan looked around and couldn’t bear to move another inch. Another step towards disaster and ruin. So he slumped carefully against the counter until he sat down on the cool kitchen tiles with Virgil on his lap. Virgil didn’t seem to care about the new position as he stubbornly refused to let up on drinking his milk like a shot.

It was so strange..... how uncomplicated Virgil was at this point. He didn’t understand why his own family scorned him. Dr. Picani told him most people would have left him in the system until he was old enough to not have Colic anymore and then someone might have adopted him. Logan could not understand how such petty emotions and irrational beliefs took precedence over a child in pain. The idea of Virgil crying out in the night all alone, only to be greeted by strangers instead of a family, made his chest ache. He felt the tears prickle his eyes and he groaned.

“Look at you, bawling like an idiot,” Logan winced at the voice crack as tears blurred his vision, “I know it is...rather uncharacteristic of me. Crying, smiling, all in the span of one day.”

He swallowed through a thick knot in his throat.

“But I believe there is sufficient evidence to say that I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been in a _very–”_ He looked away– “very long time.” Logan looked again and caught him staring with those huge dark eyes.

“Curious aren’t you?” he said softly.

Virgil didn’t reply as he blinked and continued to watch his dad. He hiccuped and Logan shifted the bottle away, lifting Virgil to burp him. Dislodging any bubbles that could cause extra pain. His whole hand was bigger than Virgil’s back and he could feel the small lungs within. They breathed in, and out, and in...

Virgil finally twisted his head away to stop, so Logan set the half-empty bottle on the floor next to him.

He looked at the time. It was already past his dinner time, six o’clock. Logan decided he could eat an old salad later. However, it was time to face the first night with Virgil.

There was a high probability that he would not have the adequate sleep required for daily functioning due to checking up on Virgil and attending to his cries, even if it was three in the morning. He bat away irritation at the breakaway from his rigorous routines. Virgil came first.

He took Virgil to his bedroom and laid him back into his bassinet with the utmost care in every movement. Virgil followed the arc of his fingers with rapt attention and with a sudden shot of movement, Virgil wrenched a hand free of his swaddle and latched onto a finger. His grip was tight as an ox until Logan swore his bones creaked with the strain.

“I see how it is. You’re going to be clingy aren’t you?” Logan leaned down as if to whisper a secret. “That’s alright. Between you and me? I’m probably going to be clingy too.”

That night Logan hardly slept. Virgil screamed in random spurts throughout the night and needed changing and holding and rocking. At some point his eyes barely could stay open to the point he almost fell asleep with Virgil still bottle feeding.

His tie was flung haphazardly into some dark corner.

Logan had unbuttoned his white dress shirt and at some point vowed to change into his pajamas but only made it so far into his TARDIS pajama pants. A toothbrush still laid, half brushed, on the bedside table and was never picked up again. Trial and error indicated that the best way to ease Virgil through his Colic pain was with some light bouncing and movement.

Nate, if he knew, would be smirking and doing his best ‘I Told You So’ dance over the rocking chair he insisted Logan on buying. The dark blue, almost black, cushions were soft against his aching back. It was exactly what Virgil needed. His face gentle in the throes of sleep as he leaned against his chest.

_Wonderful...precious and...and..._

Logan’s thoughts drifted and bobbed like sea foam on top of the turbulent waves of his subconscious, not quite sinking just yet. It was almost seven am and he only accumulated four hours of sleep. Logan’s glasses slipped down as his chin fell down to his chest.

He sank below the waves with exhausted delight.

It was going to be a long night and an even longer week.

But he was a father, and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahhhh you made it!!
> 
> feel free to leave some kudos and comments, feed me validation pfffft
> 
> finally some plot is moving and its not all sunshine and flowers as this AU seems *cOUGH*
> 
> but hope y'all liked it <333


	3. What Do You Mean There's Consequences to My Actions?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate drops by and totally thinks Logan needs to sleep. And eat. And drink. God, his best friend is a mess. Not like he'd admit it, of course. Later, Logan introduces his newest member of his family to Patton! And Roman has a lot of thoughts on this. And expresses them in a way that only a five year old knows how. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Language, Minor Injury
> 
>  **Word count:** 9,770

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> puma - okay okay this is late! I know >.< But gosh darn it I made it longer so it’s worth the wait!! And a big round of applause for Tashi to draw two wonderful illustrations for this chapter. And her writing helped <33 So much!! Also shout out to my-happy-little-bean and TheSocialBookWorm for being my betas for this chapter!! Love them. Also I’m not going to make promises on the next chapter, but I do think it’s gonna be around the end of November. Hopefully! :D
> 
> Tashi - I had so much fun working on this chapter and doing the illustrations for it! Thank you to the betas and for you followers who have been so patient! Also shout out to Puma cause they're always reminding me when my illustrations are inconsistent to what's in the fic so I can fix them! I appreciate it so much!

_Logan opened his eyes to a wide blue sky. Grass waved in his vision as blurry confusion took hold of him. Where was he? Logan groaned as he sat up, clutching his head. Any knowledge he had slipped through his fingers. He rubbed his eyes as the wind whistled through the yellow grass in all directions._

_He was in the middle of nowhere._

_Fear clutched his heart as he stood up. Grass stretched to the horizon, no matter how much he spun around, the sight of fields in all directions. This...this wasn’t right! Logan’s mind raced as he took in the idyllic scenery. It was something straight out of one of Roman’s storybooks. But there were no houses. No cars. Nothing but the faint buzz of insects and the flowers._

_‘Where...where was home?’_

**_I want to go home._ **

_Logan stumbled from the wave of homesickness that almost overtook him. This wasn’t home, but where was home? He...he didn’t remember._

**_God, I can’t be lost._ **

_Logan patted his pockets but he had no phone, no compass, and certainly no money. The sun! Yes, the sun was important._

_Logan blinked up at the wide open blue skies again. Birds flew up so high that they were nothing more than black dots. His world tilted as he saw himself from a bird’s eye. Small, unassuming, and a black dot in a yellow field that stretched to infinity. Nausea made his legs weak and with a thud, he fell down to the grass. The wind whipped through his hair as existential dread crawled up his spine and whispered in his ear._

**_You’re inconsequential._ **

_Tiny in the grand design._

_How can you ever be a good parent to--_

_Logan blinked. To who? He racked his brain. A name on the tip of his tongue. A knot of anger twisted in his chest as the name slipped through his fingers. Failed memory retrieval._

_Logan pulled on his hair, an old habit from his formative years; pain pain pain. Who?! He almost yanked a fistful out when--_

_The sky shook._

_Logan looked up to see a bright light streaking across the sky. Distant rumbling disturbed the quiet peace of the fields. A star! Logan walked forward as he followed the trails of dust scattered in the atmosphere. In one blink to the next, the sky went dark. Then, thousands of stars lit up the sky; but Logan only had eyes for one._

_A star was falling._

_Logan broke out into a run. Leaves and twigs broke under his shoes as the wind’s whistling grew louder. The rumbling in his ears marched like a heartbeat. He had to catch it! Logan held out his arms as he chased the star streaking far overhead. Questions wracked his brain as his breaths grew short._

_All stars had names._

_Logan looked up at the glittering constellations, vainly hoping to see an empty spot; was it Sirius? A or B? Canopus, Vega, Rigel?_

_‘No’, his gut answered, ‘that isn’t his name’. Polaris, Pollux, or even Alpha Centauri?_

**_No, no, what was his name?! Think, think, think!! Remember._ **

_The tip of his tongue burned with the word! If only he could find the empty space it left behind. Yet all the stars in Orion’s Belt, both Ursas, and in the Zodiacs were still there, offering him no clues to the star’s identity._

_A wolf’s cry split the night. Invisible teeth nipped at his heels as the grass rustled with more wolves. The star grew brighter until it outshone all the others as it careened down further to the horizon in front of him. A hill rose up in the distance. Logan ran but he couldn’t outrun the wolves. They licked their chops as they stared up at the falling star._

**_No, no, he’s_ ** **_mine_ ** **_._ **

_Logan snarled as he pushed ahead. Run, run, run! His thoughts were racing faster than him; if he jumped from the hill, he could catch him. Before wolves could ensnare the little celestial in their wide smiles and bury him in a place where no star could shine._

_The hill rose up before him; so close! He outstretched his hands upwards._

_Suddenly, he felt teeth tearing into his shins. He let out a scream as he crumpled to the ground. Jagged rocks bit into his arms as his shins burned with sparks._

_Logan craned his head upwards towards the glittering star, the light refracting in his broken glasses. A heavy breath panted down the back of his neck. A stench of animal permeated the air as saliva dripped down his collar._

_Logan raised a shaking hand up to the star as three wolves rushed past him. There was no time. Run, run_ **_, run away_ ** _!_

_“Virgil!” Logan screamed before sharp teeth clamped around his throat._

_._

_._

_._

His eyes snapped open as he clutched his throat. Confusion roiled through his mind as he felt smooth skin under his fingers instead.

A nightmare…

Logan drew in a shuddering breath as he leaned forward on the couch as he rubbed his temple. He’d never had one so _vivid_ before. Logan didn’t take much stock in dreams; they were nothing more than hogwash and subconscious mutterings.

Logan took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He breathed in through his nose until his chest loosened.

The sound of the floorboards creaking echoed in his ears, and his head snapped up at the sound.

Standing in front of him was his sheepish best friend, frozen in place. His sunglasses almost slipping off his nose.

Logan glanced up at the clock; was it really Thursday already? Logan shook his head as Nate came closer and handed him a piping hot cup of green tea.

“How long have you been waiting?” Logan said as he took the cup. “I didn’t mean to sleep in so late.”

“.....Ten minutes,” Nate said, looking over his sunglasses with grey-green eyes. “And you look like hell for a guy who slept till noon.”

“Five hours,” Logan murmured to himself. “A new record…”

Nate’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his sunglasses over his head.

“Please tell me you aren’t sleeping less than the recommended six to eight hours of sleep. Insomnia can be fatal.”

Logan quirked a smile.

“Perhaps in your shows, but you know I don’t have a history of chronic insomnia. It’s a rare disorder after all,” Logan took a sip of his tea, his shoulders relaxing as it settled in his stomach. “Virgil is the cause, and the only treatment is time. I’ll be fine.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Logan let out an exhausted exhale as he held his teacup tighter. Scrutiny always made his skin itch and led to him feeling a few sizes too small.

He pushed the memory of his father’s disappointed glare out of his mind. Nate wasn’t his father. Even if his observance skills were off the charts, his eyes held more kindness than his parents ever did. They weren’t awful by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren’t paradigms of greatness either.

“So, Daddio–” Logan snapped out of his thoughts as Nate sat next to him with a soft smile– “when will I see my godson, huh?”

Logan coughed on his gulp of scalding tea. “Oh, excuse me. Yes, we can go see him. His name is Virgil.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nate said as he helped Logan up from the couch. “You don’t shut up about him. His name was the first thing you said to me two days ago and it took you five minutes to stop gushing to tell me who Virgil was. Also you send blurry pictures of your son at 3 AM. And at 9 am. And at--”

Logan adjusted his half-made tie. “I may have gone overboard. Apologies.”

Nate threw off his leather coat onto a table to reveal a loose muscle shirt with dog tags clinking around his perpetually tanned neck. He waved away Logan’s apology like he never minded it at all in the first place. Logan pushed opened Virgil’s bedroom door a crack and then held up a finger to Nate. _Quiet._

Logan padded over to Virgil’s bassinet and the exhaustion in his bones ebbed at the peaceful expression on Virgil’s face. His hair stuck up in all directions like a dark halo. His little fingers twitching in his sleep and the tiny little puffs from his tiny lungs paff paff paff in perfect rhythm..

Logan gently picked him up and almost sighed in relief that he hadn’t woken up. Nate watched him with wide eyes as Logan walked over to him.

“Here,” Logan whispered, and held back a laugh of dark amusement at Nate’s sudden anxiety. “Support his head with the crook of your arm and hold him close.”

“Okay, oKAY!” Nate said as he held Virgil in the crook of his defined arms. “Shit, I didn’t mean to be loud. Sorry, I should stop cursing around a baby. He’s just so fu _dging_ cute.”

Logan smirked. “Fuck.”

He muffled his laugh at Nate’s face.

“He won’t talk so soon,” he added, almost reassuringly.

“I don’t know,” Nate whispered as he ran a finger over Virgil’s face. “He’ll be as smart as his daddy. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he talks early.”

The tips of Logan’s ears burned at the praise, "We aren't biologically related."

Nate turned around with a smirk. "Like biological parents make any sort of difference. How they raise you– _that_ makes a difference."

Logan held out his arms to take Virgil again, and Nate readily set Virgil back into Logan's waiting arms once more. Virgil sniffled in his sleep. Logan let out a breath, thankful that Virgil hadn't woken up. Logan set Virgil back onto his bassinet and pushed aside his wispy hair to kiss his head.

"Sweet dreams, son."

Virgil gurgled out a sleepy giggle.

These two minutes of pure bliss made up for the rest of the day's hard work of cleaning, changing, and feeding Virgil. Having a baby was no easy task. There were no allocated break times and sleep was inconsistent at best. Logan ran a hand through his greasy hair as he gestured to Nate to leave. Logan left the bedroom door open a crack in case Virgil cried. Even if he had the baby monitor, Logan preferred to be cautious.

Logan crossed his arms as they came to a stop. Nate rested a hand on Logan's arm, gentle and heartfelt. He looked away from Nate's all too piercing eyes. His best friend's remarkable intellect is how they became friends in the first place. However, it made him too perceptive when it came to things like this.

Nate knew Logan was in love before he even knew himself.

"Something is bothering you," Nate said, not even phrased as a question in the slightest of ways. "Spit it out."

Logan shifted in place and then craned upwards to meet Nate's eyes. He rubbed his neck as he sighed. No use dragging it out.

"I had a nightmare," Logan explained. "But it was nothing. Dreams are nonsensical mutterings and it would bore you and--"

"Logan."

Logan huffed out a breath, "Fine."

Nate guided Logan to the couch as Logan told him everything. Nate winced as his dear friend described the teeth at the end. Logan rubbed his arms; he didn't believe in hidden messages in dreams, but Nate had a way of interpreting them into meaningful advice. But it always started with…

"Did you drink water today?" Nate asked with one arm on the back of the couch.

"...No."

"And you haven't been sleeping right," Nate tsked. "Babe, you need to eat and sleep right. Wait, when was the last time you ate?"

"...I can’t remember."

"Sonova--" Nate clasped his hands in front of his face and then dropped it. "LOGAN!" He pulled out a lollipop from a pocket and popped it into Logan's mouth.

"Suck on this. It's cherry, your favorite, and I'll whip up some breakfast."

Logan's eyes widened then took the lollipop out to say. "It's noon."

Nate pushed his wrist to put the lollipop back in. "Time isn't real. But your bad eating habits are."

The sweet flavor of chemical cherry burst on his tongue. Logan sucked on it and immediately his hunger pangs ebbed away. It wouldn't be enough, but judging by Nate's march to the kitchen, he knew that he wouldn't need to wait much longer for real food.

A soft smile grew despite his own attempt to stamp it down. No one told him a side effect of having a son would be smiling much more.

His own mother certainly didn't exhibit the same symptoms.

Logan's smile disappeared. So much for smiling more.

Nate came back with a platter of buttered toast and milk. Logan took the tray with a grateful nod.

"Stress," Nate said as he took a bite from Logan's toast. "That's what your dream meant."

"But what about--"

"It's stress, baby!"

"The wolves---"

Nate shook his head with a cocky grin. "Stress wolves. Come on, when I ever been wrong?"

Logan shook his head, "You need to work on your cockiness."

"And you with your pride."

"Touche." Logan conceded with a nod. He took a bite of his toast, slathered with a heavy helping of Crofters jam, and the taste possessed him. Logan dug into his breakfast like a madman. One bite after another until nothing left but crumbs littered his plate. Nate laughed at the sticky jam around Logan’s face. He raised a napkin and wiped the jam off as Logan grumbled at his manhandling.

“Mmmph!” Logan glared at him, “You need to know the definition of boundaries. I am not an infant.”

Nate laughed a hearty sound from the depths of his stomach, and pulled Logan in for a hug, despite Logan’s incessant squirming. Logan giggled out protests as Nate’s strong arms encircled him; unfortunately, there was nothing to stop Nate’s affections. Logan laid breathless on Nate’s chest as he let a fuzzy feeling overtake him.

He’s never felt happier with a son sleeping in another room, his best friend hugging the daylights out of him, and as he snuggled deeper, the dread of Playdate Saturday faded away.

++++++

Logan sat in the driveway, fiddling with the keys, unable to turn them in the ignition. Virgil gurgled around a blue pacifier as he kicked in his car seat. Logan wondered what dreams went through his son's head. No, incorrect, dreams were illogical and nonsensical. However, he did wonder if Virgil had nightmares. Logan's insides froze, what if he had nightmares from the fire?

Logan shook his head, _no_ ; he spent every waking moment with him and he would've noticed if Virgil had distressing dreams. And he couldn't escape the feeling that his worry over this simple detail was nothing more than a distraction from what truly ate him up.

Patton's bakery was only a ten-minute drive at the edges of the market district. Yet Logan sat in his car and waited for any burst of courage to go face his best friend.

He watched his fingers glide along the wheel of the car, hyper-focused on the grounding texture. Logan bit back a sigh of frustration at his own cowardice. He knew Patton; he knew his kind smile, his eagerness, his excitability, and his deeply soulful eyes. He knew Patton like his own mind. Perhaps it was those very eyes he feared. Seeing his deep and bright blue eyes staring at him with, what? Shock? Confusion? Anger?

Patton’s kindness swelled from him with no end, and tended to be very open-minded. He never hurt a soul in his life. So why did Logan’s palms sweat at the idea of telling him about Virgil? He could just get them both back into the house and call him first but what would he even _say_?

Why did this have to be so hard?

Then again, Logan did miss seeing Roman and his toothy grin. The kid was adorable too. However, the cardboard sword Roman made himself less so. He carried it everywhere, even to kindergarten, and Logan suffered many 'defeats' at the end of it. Five years of existence had done nothing to extinguish his bundle of energy. Perhaps in ten years, Roman would be less... _dramatic_.

The click of his seatbelt surprised him; he hadn't even realized that while lost in thoughts, the ice in his bones disappeared.

Logan looked up in the rearview mirror one last time to see Virgil properly strapped in. He looked far too tiny in the red car seat. The belts were fine but were they? Logan's fingers thrummed the wheel and with an exasperated sigh he clicked off his seatbelt again. He turned around and leaned into the backseat to check Virgil's straps for what must have been the umpteenth time. Luck favored the cautious after all.

Logan smiled at the outfit he had picked out for Virgil. It was a striped white and green onesie with a hoodie with two horns sewn on it. _Daddy's Little Monster_ was written across it in a dark cursive script. There weren't many choices in the clearance aisle, but most were for upcoming holidays such as Halloween. Objectively, Logan had to say it looked cute on him. Positively _adorable_.

Logan pulled on the straps and breathed out as it didn't give. Good. That was good… Logan kissed Virgil's forehead and then settled himself back in the front. He clicked his belt back on. Now to turn the ignition on.

Now, to _turn it on_.

His thoughts drifted back to the memory of Roman's bright grin as he made grabby hands for Logan to pick him up.

The engine growled to life. Logan winced at the sound and resisted the urge to turn it back off. It would damage the ignition over time if he frivolously turned it off and on to his every nervous whim. Logan changed gears and reversed out of his parking spot. He pulled out of the parking lot and well on his way to Patton’s bakery.

Ten minutes later, Logan pulled into the parking lot of Patton’s bakery. Bright pink and blue umbrellas glowed against the backdrop of the grey sky. Logan turned the knob down to quiet the weather report on how it’d rain tomorrow. And the day after that. Logan turned the ignition off and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding at the sudden silence.

Logan looked up at the neon shine of a pink cupcake with rainbow sprinkles adorned over the bakery. _Milena’s Treats,_ it read in purple cursive below. Pink light spilled onto the dash of his car from the sign, soft rays catching on the bumps of his knuckles. A corner of his lip curled at the sight, if it were any brighter, Logan wouldn’t be surprised if the ungodly glow could be seen from space.

Logan craned his head over his shoulder to glance at Virgil one last time. He hadn’t woken up yet. He looked down at the car clock, three in the afternoon, a time when Virgil commonly fell asleep. His old routine had gone up in flames, and died screaming, so it stood to reason to create a new one around Virgil’s. He found that he didn’t mind the thought at all.

“We’re going to go see your...uncle,” Logan said as he unclicked his belt, “I’m sure you’ll love him. All the kids do, or at least, more than me.”

Logan stepped out of his car with a brown tote bag on one shoulder full of the usual supplies. He shut the door with a gentle click. Then opened the door to the back and picked up Virgil gingerly from his car seat and into his arms. Virgil’s little hands twitched against his dark purple sweater vest and his pacifier cool against his collarbone. Unable to resist, he pulled the hoodie up over Virgil’s head against the slight chill of the fall day.

Logan locked the door with a jingle of his keys. Once. Twice. Then three times to ensure the memory of his car being locked secured in his head. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back in circles as he walked toward the bakery doors. He stopped dead as he saw himself reflected in the windows. God, what _even_ was his hair?

Logan wore a rumpled white dress shirt under his vest and he had rolled up his sleeves. Better to test milk bottles that way. Dark bags under his eyes was a new permanent fixation, no matter how many times Nate texted him the past week about better sleeping habits. Logan looked down and let out a sigh at the new spot of drool as Virgil slept against his chest. Another shirt to throw in the wash when he got home.

Logan didn’t look his best. A vast understatement on his part, no doubt. It mattered not, Logan needed to introduce Patton to his new son, Virgil Crofters.

A burst of giddiness bloomed at the back of his mind, far more subdued than the first time he held Virgil, but no doubt the shock will settle in eventually.

Surely so.

Logan took in a breath and opened the door. A bell ringed his arrival and the sound was enough for Virgil to grumble in his sleep. He knew babies slept deeply but he hadn’t realized they slept like the dead. He certainly didn’t get that impression when Roman at this age woke at every jolt and jingle and certainly had trouble believing it when Virgil spent half the night crying for Logan to feed him, change him and fetch his dropped pacifier. Logan shook his head, better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he should count himself lucky he slept for four hours straight today.

The chatter of customers were quiet. Logan came after the lunch rush so he didn’t distract Patton from his job more than necessary. His eyes scanned around the bakery: more empty tables than taken, but no sight of his best friend. Kitchen, then.

Logan drifted to the counter as he rang the bell, “Patton?”

The back of his neck burned with the weight of heavy stares. Babies often garnered attention but he couldn’t help but shift in place. The chatter slipped into furtive whispers.

“Patton?” Logan called out again, “Are you there?”

The kitchen doors whooshed open as Patton walked backwards out with his hands full of a fresh batch of sugar cookies. The frosting was an eye-searing orange that Logan squinted at. Patton had a sweet tooth even if it killed him someday. Patton opened the glass counter with his hips and pushed it in under the soft golden lights.

“One second Lolo!” Patton said, his pink tongue sticking out in concentration, “I didn’t realize the _Spooky Sugar_ cookies would sell out so fast.”

“It’s September.”

Patton stood up, his smile wide.

“It’s never too early for Hallowe--whOA!” Patton paused in what he was doing and took off his oven mitts, placing them on the counter. His lips curled into a smile and he leaned over the display case, reaching his hand forward.

“Babysitting today?” Patton cooed. Logan took an instinctive step back from him. Patton glanced up at him, crestfallen, but moved back down to finish the display of cookies in the case. He wiped a few bat-shaped sprinkles off the plate to make it neater and popped them into his mouth, but he turned to pop one of the leftover cookies into a cute little bag and handed it to a woman who had been standing nearby waiting patiently for her order.

“Have a wonderfully spooky day!” Patton called after her and then wiped his hands on his apron and looked back at Logan. His crestfallen expression gone like it was never there. Patton turned to Logan with a smile bright enough that Logan almost believed it was real.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled lightly, “so Logan, who’s this little fellow here?”

Logan faltered, “Uh, uhm. This is…”

Patton’s smile faded a little as he looked between Virgil and up at Logan, and it struck Logan that he might be perplexed at his continuing hesitation. He reached out a hand over the counter again; Logan leaned back on his heels. Hurt crossed Patton’s features before a new smile stretched over it, not quite reaching his eyes. Guilt and shame twisted Logan's stomach at knots. Here it comes.

He… he never meant to hurt him. Especially for a lie that had lasted for the past two years. Logan swallowed past the thickness in his throat.

“Patton, this….” _It was now or never._ Logan had to face this reality and Patton deserved to know. If he held back now they'd never truly be friends. He had to do this.

“This–” He let out a steadying breath– “is Virgil Crofters.” Logan didn’t even attempt to hide his smile as he said the words. “I adopted him last Sunday. He’s my son.”

Patton's face grew ashen as his jaw dropped. A strange sort of croaking fell out from his lips. It was a good thing he'd set the trays down already because he looked like he would have dropped them flat on the floor.

Patton shook his head as if he didn't believe it. He came around the counter and sat onto a stool and ran flour-covered hands through his brown curls. Logan grimaced at the action, no doubt he had to wash his hair later after that….

"What?" Patton whispered, and the sound broke Logan's heart with how much shocked hurt there seemed to be beneath it. "Logan, _what?_ "

Logan opened his mouth to try and speak when a loud sniffle broke his train of thought. Awake and sniffling, Virgil dug his face into his collarbone. He seemed to detect the tense atmosphere. Another thing that Logan had observed over their first week together: when frightened, Virgil clung onto him for dear life. Logan bounced him gently and rubbed his back.

"Shush, it's okay," Logan said, his voice neutral and serious in his low drawl, "Daddy is here. I got you."

Virgil blinked up at him with those brown eyes. Logan smiled as Virgil's hoodie fell down from the action. His cheeks looked rosier than the sickly color he first saw. Perhaps Virgil was recovering from Colic faster than he thought? He had read papers, articles, and even doctors’ casefiles on the illness and it was rare but not impossible. He rather hoped Virgil had a faster recovery than most, because he wouldn’t be in constant pain anymore.

"Oh my goodness gracious." Patton had his hands over his mouth. "You aren't pulling my leg."

"Uh, no…?" Logan said, "And why would I pull your leg? What goal does that achieve? Would that not hurt?"

Logan covered Virgil's ears in time to shield Patton's high pitch squeal that made every dog bark in a ten block radius. Patton bounced in place as he threw around a million questions too quick for Logan to process. Virgil looked up at him and Logan rolled his eyes in return. Truly, why did he love this man?

Virgil giggled, a sort of laugh that tinkled like bells and was as light as a feather. He couldn't look away from the sight. His son's first laugh; among the thousands of the words in the English language, only one was enough. Wow...

"Oh my gosh!"

The two of them flinched. "Inside voices, Patton."

Logan looked up and he froze at the expression on Patton's face. His eyes sparkled alight as his hands were held up in his patented _too cute, I'm going to die_ pose. If Patton sparkled any brighter, he would outshine his garish sign outside. Logan never felt so much like an exposed wire and wished he wore a tie or even a binder labeled "Taxes". He floundered as he gathered up Virgil closer as a shield.

"CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!" Patton hopped around Logan; he already had his phone out and the shutter went off every second. "God, Virgil is such a cutie pie!! Aren't you?" Patton cooed as he snapped another. "Yes you areeee, yes you are!! So handsome like his father."

Patton looked down at his phone, "Oh wow, you sure he's adopted?"

"What do you mean?"

Patton held up his phone to show him, "Both of you got the same look of utter contempt. Boy, he doesn't like the camera either. Like father like son!" His grinning was terribly insufferable.

Virgil squinted in the photo, his brown eyes held a piercing glare. While Logan squinted in much the same way. He never did like candid photos. Much more stressful than a scheduled photo like for his driver's license. Patton tapped at his phone and within a few moments later, Logan heard a buzz from his back pocket.

He mentally noted to save it as his new lock screen later.

Patton came closer and held out a finger to Virgil, "Awww, he's such a cute little bean!"

Virgil burst into tears and wailed. The customers flinched and some Logan could see were covering their ears. Patton winced and gestured for Logan to come behind the counter and into the kitchens. Logan bounced Virgil and shushed him quietly as they followed Patton inside.

Patton brushed his fingers against the small of Logan's back as he led them to a soft chair at the far back next to a spiral staircase upstairs. The touch burned in its wake. His face heated up as he took the seat with a grateful nod. Patton had a habit of giving Logan heart palpitations without him ever realizing he did so. Curse him.

Virgil wept against Logan's shoulder. "It will be alright, little starlight. Daddy's here," Logan rubbed his back in the hopes he relieved some of his boy's pain, "It's just Patton."

Logan squinted into Virgil's shiny eyes for any cloudiness of pain. Perhaps it was his Colic acting up, even if he's been recovering steadily. Logan bounced him on his knee as he talked to him. Patton went upstairs for a few minutes then came back down with something hidden behind his back.

"Hey there, Virgil." Patton cooed as he kneeled in between Logan's legs, Logan refused to acknowledge it even as he seared the image in his brain for later, "Look what I got you!"

Patton waved a stuffed lion in front of Virgil. The surprise was enough to startle Virgil out of crying. Logan pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped Virgil of snot and tears. His son scrunched his face up at the action. He would have to deal with it; cleanliness and hygiene were paramount to healthy living.

Virgil cooed as he reached out to grab the lion. His little fingers outstretched and had total faith in his dad's strong grip to hold him steady. Patton held it out to him as Virgil grabbed an ear of the lion. It promptly fell to the floor and out of his frankly uncoordinated handhold. He glared down at the lion as he pouted at his failure and made audible whimpering noises. If they weren’t careful he might burst into tears again.

"You'll figure it out, kiddo!" Patton beamed as he picked it up again, then looked up at Logan, "Yeah, Cow here used to be Roman's favorite until he learned about dragons and white horses." Patton slipped into one of his more fond smiles, "But you can have him."

"Cow?" Logan said as he took the lion, Virgil's eyes brightened as he grasped for it, "Are you quite sure, Patton? I quite remember Roman throwing a tantrum about him when he was three when it went 'missing'."

"He dragged the poor thing through the mud! I had to wash it!" Patton said, then blushed at his outburst, "All I'm saying is that I know you well enough to know that you might need some toys–" Logan opened his mouth but Patton pushed on– "that are  _not_ puzzles."

"It's never too early..." Logan mumbled.

Virgil giggled around his pacifier as Logan shook the lion in front of him. Fascinating. Patton held out his finger again but much more slowly than last time. Logan looked between them and hoped Virgil didn't hate him. Well, _hate_ was a strong word, or if babies were even capable of hatred. Most likely they did but Logan didn't want to test that hypothesis out.

Virgil unsteadily reached out his hand and then gripped Patton's finger. He clung onto Logan's sweater for dear life with the other. Patton's face at that exact moment of acceptance went through several expressions that Logan couldn't describe. His wonderfully blue eyes went wide with surprise then grew shiny with stars. And tears, definitely tears. Logan now didn't feel so ashamed about crying profusely for the past week anymore.

Virgil simply had that effect on people it seemed.

Patton stood up and took off his glasses to look up at the ceiling. He blinked and Logan froze at the quiet sniffle. Patton easily cried, but unfortunately, when he cried, Logan soon followed. This cause and effect phenomenon made it hard for them to watch even remotely sad movies together.

Patton set his glasses back on with a rare expression of fragility. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He couldn’t seem to look up just then and that gnawed at Logan’s heartstrings but it was only fair as Logan couldn't meet his eyes. "I...I had expressed my desires in the past about fatherhood. But you told me to wait for a partner, romantic or not, to raise a child with."

The leaden weight of Patton's gaze shifting to look pointedly at him made his skin burn at the contact. Not in the pleasant yet stomach-flop kind of way. The sort that made him want to fling himself into the sun to repent for his sins. If Logan didn’t know embarrassed guilt before he sure knew it now. Love was funny like that.

Virgil's cooing echoed in his ears but it wasn't enough to drown out his own insecurities.

"Logan, I--"

"I couldn't find a partner, Patton." Logan said as his shoulders slumped, "Haven't you said it yourself once? Love has failed me." Patton flinched. "I don't need to fulfill societal milestones to the letter. I can’t simply wait for the one–" _For you_ – "anymore! I...I need to do whatever in my control to live a happy and fulfilled life. And I simply thought you didn't support me in that endeavor..."

"I'm so sorry!!" Patton cried, and here came the waterworks; damn it all. "I was thinking about myself and how hard it was to raise Roman on my own. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you! Because it was hard Logan, it was really hard and it’s _going_ to be really hard!"

Logan twisted his nose in his best attempt to stem the tears at the back of his throat, "But....you made it seem so easy."

Patton barked out a laugh, "It's not. It's really not..."

Logan huffed out a laugh. "I suppose you were right. I'm sorry too. I should've called you earlier." Logan looked up and finally met Patton's eyes head on as his voice wobbled. "I was a mess. I have no idea what I'm doing, I puked. Several times. Oh god, I never puked before and--"

Patton bent over at the waist and engulfed Logan into a hug, careful so he wouldn’t crush Virgil. Logan dropped Cow in shock. A few moments passed then Logan sank into the touch with a sigh and brought a free hand to grasp at the space between Patton's shoulder blades. His fingers shook like pool noodles in a storm. Patton shushed and rocked them gently. Virgil grumbled below the hug. Logan let out a wet giggle and couldn’t fight a smile off his face at imagining Virgil’s little pout.

The tangled mess of his thoughts and anxieties smoothed out as Patton hummed a lullaby in his ear. Every inch of contact they shared made Logan experience what he called "Heart Pat-pilations" and symptoms he had noted over time often included extensive blushing, processing errors, and a reluctance to let go. Such as now. He clutched Patton's shirt, hoping against hope it would never end.

 _Just for a few seconds longer._ **_Please_** _._

Patton pulled away, with a cheeky smile, "Hey, you can make it up to me by letting me see this goofball more often, huh?"

Logan released his white knuckled grip of Patton’s shirt as he raised an eyebrow, "Consider it done."

The emptiness between his fingers from the lack of contact wailed. Logan picked up Cow off the floor again and hoped the stuffed lion would abate the feeling. However nothing could replace the burning of Patton’s touch. That delectable taste of madness at the edge of his awareness. Tortured love life aside, Virgil seemed to enjoy the appearance of Cow again as his giggles filled the air.

Patton held out his arms with a shy smile. Logan hesitated then let Patton take Virgil from his arms at last. Patton beamed as he rubbed an absent thumb against Virgil's cheek. Logan stood up and clutched the stuffed lion in a death grip against his chest. Virgil tried to grab Patton's glasses but the baker saw it coming a mile already and leaned out of his reach.

Patton moved Virgil to rest in the crook of his arms despite his squirming, "Golly, I've missed Roman when he was this age. Full of wiggles and loud as can be. It's been so long."

"If I recall, both you and your ex-wife–" Patton winced as Logan cleared his throat– "didn't get a wink of sleep and went through living hell for the first year of Roman's life."

Patton leaned down to press his forehead against Virgil, "God, I missed that smell. You don't forget it."

"Patton?"

Patton wrenched his head up, his face beet red with embarrassment. Virgil's pacifier threatened to fall out from how much he giggled. Logan resisted the urge to palm Patton's cheek to feel the heat from his blush as he walked closer.  Such a gorgeous flush against his unrequited love's freckles.

"Sorry," Patton said, his blush fading, "It's weird. I know it's weird. You can't just sniff people's babies without permission. No wait, I meant like--"

"Patton." Logan smiled as Patton's babbling came to a stop. "There isn't much I don't understand, and if or when there comes a day where I do, I'm sure I will respect it."

Patton broke out into a sunny smile, "Oh golly, you say the sweetest things! I'm the luckiest man alive to have you as my best friend!"

Logan's smile grew a little sadder. "I feel the same way."

A few beats of silence passed as the two of them shuffled in place. Logan squeezed Cow tighter; the stuffed lion was the same size as his son, but smelled too much like old pizza and spilled hot chocolate stains to be an exact replica of Virgil. Logan buried his face into Cow's head and hoped the ground would swallow him whole. Just end his suffering already.

Logan peeked over Cow to glance at Patton and Virgil. Logan couldn't decipher Patton's expression as he baby-talked down at Virgil. A mix of thoughtfulness and sadness, Logan could tell from the slight pinch at the corner of his eyes.  

"What's his story?" Patton said, at last, his voice quiet. "He's so tiny, but why choose him? I don't understand how could anyone could give this little treasure up."

Logan squeezed Cow even tighter as he snarled, "No one did. His family-" He swallowed past the anger at the back of his throat.

"His family died in a fire. But his extended family believed Virgil to be a bad omen and–” He couldn’t help but let out a bitter huff at the word– “ _abandoned_ him at the hospital." Logan took a breath as his voice grew more unsteady. "They...they didn't visit him even once when he could've been dying from the smoke. He could've passed away among strangers, all alone in a room with beeping machinery, scared and crying....”

The thought made Logan’s gut twist like he’d been stabbed and the knife twisted in circles. “But he didn't."

Logan looked up and balked at the sheer fire alit behind Patton's eyes. He wondered whether Patton still kept his shotgun hidden under the counter. He never had bullets since he never actually wanted to hurt anyone, but at this moment, Logan wouldn't be surprised if he did. Patton looked ready to march out and punch Virgil's old family's lights out.

Logan cleared his throat.

"As for why I chose him? Because he  _needed_ me. As simple as that." He brushed a hand over Virgil's head, "He was so small and he was the only one in that room that was going to be looked over because he was sick." His heart squeezed with a sting of pain. "How could I say no to eyes this big?”

Patton’s fire softened into embers. “...You’re a good man, Lo. And I think you made the right choice.”

Logan looked up into Patton’s eyes, that wonderful shade of blue that haunted his dreams. He...he said he made the right choice. Logan preened at the praise as the top of his ears burned. Logan’s palms grew sweaty against Cow’s knotted fur. Patton’s approval made his heart soar. His worries were for naught.

“Ah, that is ki-kind of you to say.” Logan started to say, his voice faltering in this rare moment between them, Patton’s soft look tangling his tongue. Then a loud slam echoed from the bakery. Patton looked away, their tender moment lost to life’s innumerable surprises, and his heart shriveled a little more.

“Daaaadd!!!” a voice shrieked, “You were late! I had to _walk_ home!”

Patton glanced up at the clock. “Oh, shoot! I had to be there to walk Roman home five minutes ago. I better go see him.”

Logan gestured to the door, _after you_ ; Patton stuck out his tongue. Virgil’s little brown eyes shone with ire as they made their way back out to the front. Logan held the door open for Patton and they were greeted by the sight of Roman pressing his face against the glass of Patton’s display counter. Patton cleared his throat. Roman shot up and leveled a glare at his father as he crossed his arms petulantly. Logan set Cow aside on the counter.

“Where were you?!” Roman stomped his foot, his little Mickey Mouse backpack jingled on his back, “I can’t believe you forgot me!”

Logan pushed past Patton and kneeled down to Roman’s level and put his hands on Roman’s shoulder. “Did you walk home, Roman? You’re far too young to be doing that.”

Patton adjusted Virgil to lay against his chest to put a hand on his hip. “Who let you walk away? You should’ve waited for me.”

Roman glared up at Patton with tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. “You should’ve been there!”

“Roman,” Logan said sharply. “It’s far too dangerous for a child your age to be walking alone in the city. Next time wait patiently until your father picks you up.” Roman pouted and kicked his feet. “Even if he’s only a block away.”

A hand landed on Logan’s shoulder, “I’m his dad, but thank you.”

Logan jolted and then stood up.

“Excuse me, you’re right: it isn’t my place, I am sorry.” He let Patton walk past him as he rubbed his arms. Patton was more of a father than he could ever be, no matter how many books he read.

“Roman, it’s okay,” _\--It’s not,_ “Tell me who was the teacher on watch? You’re not in trouble.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but kept silent.

Roman rolled his eyes, “Mr. Trumpbull was. He sucked on a weird lollipop that glowed and smelled funny. Like winter. But bitter and gross.” Roman scrunched up his nose, “Didn’t like it so I walked home.”

Patton bounced Virgil gently as he ran a hand through Roman’s curls. “Well, I’m glad you made it home safely. I’ll call the school and see what I can do about it.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled. “You’re glad I walked home?!”

“Uh, _no_.” Logan said, his voice cold as ice. “You need to move schools, that teacher is incompetent and exposing children to secondhand smoke. Not only that–” Logan adjusted his glasses– “no one should’ve let you walk away at all. You could’ve been kidnapped or worse.” He squinted down at Roman over his glasses, “So incorrect, I personally am _not_ glad you walked alone home.”

Roman let out a frustrated yell, “What! Dad, tell him he’s wrong!”

Patton coughed uncomfortably.

“Well, he’s right, kiddo. Even if I could have phrased it better.” Logan’s fuzzy feeling of pride drained away, Patton didn’t _approve_ of his methods or his words. “But it was dangerous what you did. Go grab a cookie, okay?”

“A cookie?” Logan said aghast at Patton’s coddling, but then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Very well.”

It wasn’t Logan’s place to do or say anything more. Patton’s glare over his glasses shut him up on the matter anyhow. Just because Logan was a father now too didn’t give him the right to chide Roman. Logan _knew_ that. He shouldn’t have spoken up at all, but he couldn’t help speaking up on an important matter such as Roman’s safety.

However, Patton did spoil Roman far too much. It made the boy grow up into bit of a brat if he said so himself. Roman’s face lit up and opened up the counter to pluck up a _Spooky Surprise_ cookie and bit into it. Black crumbs fell to the floor unceremoniously as Roman groaned at the sheer amount of sugar. Logan’s mouth twitched with a smile while Patton looked at his son with open fondness at Roman’s unabashed love for his dad’s cookies.

Roman turned around and finally zeroed in on Virgil. “What is _that?"_

“Oh! This is Virgil,” Patton said as Virgil gurgled, “He’s Logan’s son, so say hello to him! He’s just the cutest little thing ever.”

“Ew.” Roman wrinkled his nose as he looked up at Virgil in Patton’s arms, “Why do you have it?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking why I have Virgil? I adopted him.”

“Oh…” Roman took a bite out of his cookie thoughtfully, “When do you give him back? I know Ms. Applebee gave her hamster back after a few weeks.”

Patton giggled, “No, kiddo. This kind of adoption is forever I think.”

“It _is_ forever.” Logan said firmly, no hint of hesitance in his voice.

“Do you want to hold him, Roman?” Patton said, “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, Logan, how old is he?”

“Three and a half months old,” Logan said, then picked up Roman as he squealed. “Up you go.” Logan set Roman on top of a stool and fought back a smile at the resulting giggles from the kindergartner, “Be very careful when holding Virgil, okay?”

Roman crossed his arms, “Okay, okay. I will, Lo! Geez, I’m not a baby.”

Patton walked over and bounced Virgil to soothe him. Logan’s hands twitched to take him back, but Patton was the more experienced father here. He had to concede to him. Logan instead focused on coaching Roman on how to hold Virgil properly. Within a few heartstopping moments, Virgil settled into Roman’s arms.

Virgil squirmed as he sniffled, Roman stuck out his tongue at him. “Are all babies this gross? Why is he crying?”

“He has Colic,” Logan said, both adults kneeling close to Roman in case anything were to go wrong, “It means his tummy is sensitive and he can be in great pain sometimes.”

“Aw, poor little guy.” Patton frowned.

Roman’s fingers were sticky with crumbs and frosting, staining his cute little onesie. Logan wished he had the foresight to wipe Roman’s fingers ahead of time. Then grimaced as he remembered how infectious playgrounds could be, he hoped Roman didn’t catch anything. Roman looked between the two of them, wheels turning behind his beautiful green eyes, then shouted, “Are you even looking at me?”

“What? Of course, sweetheart.” Patton said, but he kept glancing down at the squirming baby, “Virgil is just so _small_. Gah, he’s so adorable…”

"He is," Logan said, brushing a finger down his cheek. "I can hardly look away."

Roman huffed, "Is this why you haven't seen me in like fifty years?"

Patton and Logan glanced at each other. Virgil kicked his feet and squirmed in Roman's arms but Roman held him steadfast and true. Patton raised an eyebrow, Logan's shoulders dropped in response, fine, he needed to tell the truth.

"It’s only been two weeks. And yes, I had to baby proof my apartment. I wanted it to be a surprise," Logan said, "Which meant I had to decline our usual game nights at my place and visit county offices in my free time instead of coming here."

"Well, it was certainly a surprise," Patton muttered under his breath, "Hold his head a little higher, yes, that's it."

Logan couldn't read Roman's expression as he whispered, "So...you picked him over me?"

"Kiddo!"

"Preparing for an arrival of a baby takes extensive work and perhaps I should've warned ahead of time." Logan cleared his throat while Roman stared down at the baby in his arms. "Virgil will require a lot of my attention to make sure he's happy and cared for. And he'll come to our game nights too, regardless."

"What?!" Roman shouted, "But that's our thing! Not Vergil's!"

"Virgil."

"Whatever!" Roman's eyes shone, Logan bit back a sigh, children's emotions were so incredibly volatile and unpredictable that Logan didn't know what to say in response, "What about my happiness?! Do you even care?! You love this ugly little thing more than _me_!!" Then quieter, "Am I not good enough?"

"Roman," Patton cut in, "We talked about this. Sometimes Uncle Lolo might be busy but it's not because of you. Okay?"

"Yes, your father is right," Logan said, "Virgil is harmless. He doesn't have any teeth nor any capacity to replace you. I love him _and_ I love you. Very much."

Roman glared down at Virgil, his jade eyes full of fire. Virgil kicked his feet and squealed in Roman’s arms. Then his cute little blue pacifier fell out his mouth. Oh no, that wouldn’t do! Logan dropped his eyes down to the floor and looked for it. It rolled under the chair. He reached a hand to grab it when Patton’s hand bumped against his.

“Oh--”

“Apologies--”

Patton pulled his hand back like it been burned. Logan ignored the slight sting of hurt at the action, his friend was simply being courteous. Logan picked up the pacifier gently and looked up at Patton’s soft smile. _See? He was just being polite,_ he told his anxieties. Logan met Patton’s eyes and let a smile escape. Not for the first time he wondered if they could be together in another and more kinder life.

Roman screamed, “Ow! You little jerk!”

Patton’s eyes widened as the two of them realized they hadn’t looked at their sons in all this time. _A whole minute unsupervised_. They whipped up their heads back up to witness Roman’s index finger in Virgil’s mouth, and it looked like Virgil wasn’t letting go any time soon. Tears sprung at the edge of Roman’s eyes. Meanwhile, Virgil practically _glowered._

Ah, it appeared like Logan was right after all. Like always. Babies _were_ capable of hatred then. Logan grimaced, but he hadn’t expected it to be at the expense of Roman. In different circumstances, Logan would’ve laughed.

“Virgil!”--”Roman!!” the fathers said in unison.

Virgil let go of Roman’s finger with a slimy pop. Logan reached out to pick Virgil out of Roman’s arms. Patton brought Roman’s fingers closer to inspect. Both of them knew Virgil was far too young to have any teeth to bite but babies’ jaws were quite strong. Patton let out a sigh at the lack of blood on the tip of Roman’s finger. However, before Logan could carefully extract Virgil away from the unruly kindergartner--

“I’ll show you a real bite!” Roman shouted, then bit down on Virgil’s squirming arm, Virgil _shrieked_.

“ **ROMAN ALEXANDER MILENA**!” Patton and Logan screeched in horror, then Roman released Virgil’s arm in shock. Virgil sobbed as blood welled up from two dark lines of teeth marks on his pink arm. He wailed, pain clouding his brown eyes, and his two small fists hit Roman’s stomach in his flailing. Roman held him tighter to stop him from falling onto the tiles below but it only made Virgil scream to such unholy pitches that the windows rattled.

“Roman, you are in so much trouble!” Patton said sternly, “Give him back to Logan,” Roman hesitated, “Now!”

Logan’s ears rang as he picked up his screaming son from Roman’s uncouth hold.

Blood. Roman bit down hard enough to make his son _bleed_. Virgil’s red face of total anger and fright already filed away for nightmare fuel for the next few weeks. Logan shushed him as Virgil clung to his sweater for dear life. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back and hoped against hope that his son’s Colic wouldn’t act up at the same time. Stomach pain and a laceration for a baby must be like absolute _torture_ for him.

“What were you thinking?” Patton said aghast, “You can’t just bite a _baby_!”

Roman broke out into sobs; he never dealt with scoldings well. Patton never did it often enough since he preferred to give him cookies and make him feel all better. He wanted to see his son smile more often than cry. Logan picked up some tissues from the counter and cleaned up Virgil’s wound of Roman’s spit. Meanwhile, his own shoulder grew wet with snot and tears so much so that Logan considered just throwing the sweater out when he got home.

Patton turned around on his heel to face Logan, his eyes wide.

“Oh my god, Logan I’m so sorry!” Patton said, his voice high and frantic. “Roman, go find the medkit upstairs. It’s under the cabinet, you know where.”

Roman ran away with his jingling backpack growing distant with him. The customers in the bakery whispered among themselves even more. His son’s shrieks and cries made them uncomfortable. Logan abruptly stood up and walked into the back room. Away from the attention and from their stares.

Logan sat back down in the chair next to the stairs. Patton stayed up front to check up customers and to pretend everything was under control. Or more likely, to give Virgil some space to calm down with his Dad. Red and blotchy, his son’s face looked like a tomato, and his shrieks made Logan’s ears ring. Logan couldn’t help but feel like an absolute failure.

If only he wasn’t a lovesick fool and paid more attention! Why couldn’t he just be more attentive like an actual father should be?

“I’m sorry,” Logan said as he shushed Virgil’s cries and rocked him, “It was my fault. One week in and I already failed you.”

Virgil’s cries softened, not so shrill anymore, but he didn’t look like the giggly carefree baby from earlier either. Logan bounced him on his lap and talked to him. He was halfway through his rant about Galileo’s unfair treatment by the Church when Patton came to check on them. Virgil sniffled and his little lungs shuddered but his eyes fluttered with exhaustion. Almost lulled to sleep by Logan’s passionate lecture.

“I found it!” Roman shouted in triumph as he tettertottered down the spiral stairs with a medkit in hand, “I thought it was in the other cabinets but I found it!”

Patton tousled Roman’s hair and then opened it up. Logan held out Virgil’s arm and Patton bandaged and cleaned it up as gently he could. Best to protect it from any infections and germs. Virgil actively fought sleepiness against Logan’s chest at this point. Logan sighed, he needed to call Dr. Picani when he got home for an emergency appointment tomorrow. Or today. Maybe even a hospital. He didn't know.

“Roman…” Patton said as he pushed his son closer to them, “Now what do you say?”

“I’m sorry.” Roman kicked his feet, “That was really mean of me to do. But Virgil bit me first!” Patton glared, “But I’m still really sorry.”

Logan let out a pained sigh, “You’re forgiven, Roman. But don’t do it again. You understand? He’s incredibly delicate.”

“Sorry.” Roman pouted.

Logan stood up and held his sleeping son against his chest, “I have to get going. I’ll call you later, Patton.”

“Oh, of course!” Patton said, his smile a tad too wide, “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into him.” Roman huffed. “But you bet I’m going to have a very long talk with Roman.”

Logan adjusted his tote bag as he walked back out into the bakery. “I’ll see you both next time. It’s just...been a long week.”

He glanced at the forgotten stuffed lion, Cow, left on the counter. Logan slowed to a stop, Patton did offer it to him, but did he really mean it? Patton made the decision for him as he grabbed the lion and stuffed it into Logan’s bag for him. Logan’s bone-deep exhaustion dropped a little bit off his shoulders at the action.

“Hey!” Roman protested, “That’s mine!”

“It’s Virgil’s now,” Patton said, “He needs it, and you hardly ever play with Cow anymore. You have more than enough dragons in your room.”

“But-”

“No buts, Roman. That’s when you get older and you want him to be able to have something nice to play with right?”

“No…” Roman crossed his little arms and huffed but his shoulders sagged as a guilty expression crossed his soft features, “Yeah…. Okay…”

Logan tousled Roman’s curls, “Thank you. And I’ll see you next week, little minotaur.”

“HEY!”

Patton giggled, “Drive home safe!”

Logan waved goodbye and left the bakery without glancing back. He drove through the busy city streets as he went through various scenarios on how that first meeting could’ve gone better, or more commonly, much worse. At a stoplight, Logan dropped his head down to the wheel, his heart nearly stopped in his chest when he heard Virgil’s shriek of pain and fear.

He hoped to never hear it again in his life.


	4. Caught on Tape!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan brings Virgil for a doctor's appointment and receives more insight than he asked for from the odd Dr. Picani. Reeling from the visit, he gets a phone call with some troubling news. Just wonderful! Logan is brought back down to Earth from Cloud Nine of paternal fatherhood, and must now confront his new reality with a son in his life. 
> 
> **Warnings:** Mild Angst
> 
>  **Word count:** 5, 634

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Puma:** God this chapter is finally out!! I swear the universe was working against me. But woo!! It's here! Huge thanks to Tashi (fangirltothefullest) for her AMAZING art and my betas, sher-shoc-the-famder and my-happy-little-bean for being super patient!! So enjoy :D! Don't forget to leave some kudos and comments for us hungry artists :P
> 
>  **Tashi:** I'm so happy it's here! We all worked so hard for this chapter!

Logan stared at a stuffed bison with six legs instead of four. How inaccurate and strange. Most likely a new addition to Dr. Picani’s office. Logan bounced Virgil on his lap, his son gurgling. Probably hungry. He pictured the supermarket on the way home. The ever stinging smell of cleaning and sticky floors made him long for an alternative option.

 _You’re almost out of diapers_ a voice nagged him _._ And formula, no matter how much Virgil scrunched up his face at it. Aside from it being adorable, Virgil would get no coddling from him. Logan has read enough books on infant dietary needs of course. He also paid close attention for signs when Virgil was ready to try something new.

“Logan?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, “Yes, yes. I apologize.”

“It’s all good!” Dr. Picani beamed, “Like your little waterbender there!”

Logan tilted his head, “What?”

“Oh, there’s a cool neat-o test based on hand shape online that tells you about what bender you are,” Dr. Picani brightened even more (as if that was humanly possible), “And I remember Virgil here got waterbender! You know? From _Avatar: the Last Airbender_??”

Logan pinched his nose, “I meant the test results, doctor.”

“Oh,” Dr. Picani’s smile softened, “The good news is that he didn’t catch anything. Aside from his ongoing colic, your son is incredibly lucky.”

His eyes crinkled around his laughter lines, “Roman was vaccinated, but even then, there was still that chance. Bacteria and all that. Kids just being kids like eating dirt or something.”

“And the bad news?”

“Babies can heal quickly even without Katara’s spirit water!” Dr. Picani said, but then bit his lips for a few moments, “But it looks like a permanent scar. So keep an eye on that arm. It might be sore and bruised for a while. And also watch his little fingers,” The doctor adjusted his glasses, his voice lost all goofiness from earlier, “I’m sure you would’ve noticed by now, but if either the arm or the fingers don’t work correctly, you might have some severed muscle tendons from the force of the bite.”

Logan’s bouncing came to a stop. His three-hour power nap left him in an instant. Exhaustion weighed down his bones. Barely a month into having a son and he already had a scar or worse, a disfigurement that would alter his lifestyle.

“I’m a terrible father,” Logan sagged, glancing down at his son’s eyes still so full with spirit, “Oh, what am I doing?”

Laughter rang through the colorful office, “Welcome to fatherhood, Mr. Crofters! I’ve worked here twenty years in the maternity ward and I’ve seen every sort of father under the sun. And _you_? You aren’t a terrible father,” Dr. Picani said as he reached over and patted his white-knuckled fist, “You treated his wound, then called me immediately, and all the while you comforted him. In my totally expert opinion; you’re off to a good start.”

“What kind?” Logan whispered, trying (and failing) to hide the desperation in his voice, “What kind of father am I, if not a terrible one?”

Dr. Picani looked at him, silent for the first time since he entered his office. Logan squirmed in his seat as the doctor deliberate over the question. No doubt judging him like anyone else. Virgil burbled a soft noise and tugged on his tie, insistent as ever. For the split second Logan looked away from Dr. Picani to look at his son, the knot in his chest loosened. He never knew he could house so much love in his heart for a small thing.

He looked back up at Dr. Picani and instead of the biting glare he expected, he wore a fond smile with wrinkles around the edges. Logan blinked. He didn’t know how to fit that expression in his world. His world full of square shoulders and horizontal grimaces. Virgil pulled on his tie again.

“You, Logan, are not a terrible father,” Dr. Picani said, warmth in every word that had Logan reeling, “I want to say you’re good, heck you’re doing much better than most new fathers I’ve met! But a good father takes time, come back in twenty years, and let me know how you’re doing then!” Dr. Picani’s smile softened as Logan let the wise words wash over him, ‘But you? You’re well on your way to being a good father.”

Logan didn’t feel particularly comforted by the words. Not with the large bruise that still lingered under Virgil’s onesie. A permanent reminder of his failure for years to come. Virgil didn’t seem too fazed, but Logan couldn’t understand. He knew logically resilience came with childhood and kids often bounced back. Yet, _yet,_ he couldn’t help but think he might’ve done something to prevent it. Virgil wouldn’t have a bite at all if he hadn’t visited Patton so soon.

If anything, this was one scar Logan wouldn’t bounce from.

“What would you do?” Logan whispered, his chest tight with anxiety clawing up his insides as he looked at his son, “If you were in my place?”

“Hmmm, well,” Dr. Picani tapped his chin then beamed, “I’d be completely _inconsolable_ , to be honest! And hold back my wife, because she’s so much like Garnet! But….” Dr. Picani clasped his hands over his desk, “I know accidents happen and it hurts now, but one day it’ll stop hurting. It’ll find its place in your life.”

“Actual advice?” Logan raised an eyebrow, “I would’ve expected more cartoon references.”

Dr. Picani grinned with a hint of mischief around the edges, “Silly! I wasn’t done. Rafiki said that sometimes the past can hurt, but you can choose to either run from it...or learn from it. And have you learned something, Mufasa?”

Logan blinked, “Well–”

“Actually it’s Simba,” Dr. Picani cut in, “That Rafiki said it to, but since you’re a _dad_ , I said Mufasa. Here’s hoping you don’t meet a tragic end from unseen forces that actively plotted your demise and die protecting your son from people closer to you than you think.”

“What?”

“Never mind!” Dr. Picani laughed, “Just one of my cartoon rants, don’t worry about it. Or complain to my superior...please. She’ll give me that disappointed look again. So did you learn something from this whole debacle?”

“...Yes,” Logan said, “I believe I’ve learned some valuable insights after all.”

Logan looked at his son, running a hand over his pudgy little cheek. Virgil moved immediately to grab for his fingers and pull on them. His grip strong as ever, so by Dr. Picani’s assessment, he would be fine. No disfigurement anytime soon.

“Wonderful!” Dr. Picani picked up the stuffed bison and waved it in front of Virgil, “I know for a fact he loves you very much already! He isn’t the miserable little boy I knew him,” Virgil giggled as his fingers reached for the toy, “Golly, he’s so _happy_. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

“I’m simply following the guide books.” Logan coughed.

Dr. Picani winked up at him, “You love him too, and there’s no book in the whole world that can teach you that. I don’t blame you. Virgil is the cutest water-bender I know!”

Logan’s face turned a hot pink as croaks fell out. Dr. Picani laughed as Virgil grabbed the hairs of the bison, the leg too fat for him to grasp, and swung it up and down as he giggled. Logan didn’t disagree with Dr. Picani’s statement. He loved his son. And no one could teach the warm encompassing feeling in his chest whenever he looked at him. Virgil _Crofters_ , his family.

That very love was what contributed to his worries, Virgil deserved a good father. Someone to watch over him and be there for every recital and milestone. Be there for every bruise and breakdown. Every triumph and award. He didn’t want to miss a thing. Ever. Logan’s eyes prickled with the threat of tears again as his thoughts drifted to Roman.

He loved that boy from day he was born. So much energy in such a tiny frame and his smiles never ran out. Roman pushed and shoved at the world like he wanted everyone to know he was there. Logan couldn’t forget the tantrums he threw, the toys he’s broken in his enthusiasm, and how he ran. Ran far and fast despite his stubby little legs for his age. It didn’t matter that Roman was Patton’s kid, a detail that had lost importance as he loved him like his own.

And why the bite stung so much. Lashing out because he didn’t want anyone else to leave him. Patton didn’t quite get the hang of teaching nonviolent ways to express emotion, but then again what did he expect from a five-year-old who loved swords? No, _no_ it wasn’t Roman’s fault. A heavy prickly ball sat in his chest, disappointment so deep that it hurt to breathe.

Logan swallowed thickly as Virgil’s giggles filled the air. Dr. Picani told him when to get vaccines and shots for Virgil in the upcoming weeks and months. Yet Logan couldn’t forget Roman’s tears. He let out an exhausted sigh as a migraine blossomed behind his eyes. Why did feelings always came with such adverse effects? Virgil tugged on his tie again and snapped him out of his thoughts. Logan shook his head and paid attention to the rest of the visit.     

+++++

Logan slammed the car door as he got in. Then slumped over his car wheel. Virgil burst into tears in the backseat at the loud noise. His shoulders slumped even more. Whatever Dr. Picani said from his silly cartoons couldn’t be right. Him? A good father?

“You’re deluding yourself,” Logan hissed under his breath, “I can’t do this. I’ll be just like my father and–”

Logan muffled a sob.

Virgil cries joined his, and he wanted to drive away into the sunset. Something ugly pierced his heart at the way he failed Virgil’s cry for attention. Damn _feelings_ hindering his care of his son. He could cry all he wanted when he was dead. He’d have all of eternity to cry his pain and failures away.

Logan wiped away his tears with his wrist, “Pull it together, you idiot.”

He took in a shuddering breath. Then he swiftly beat back the thorny emotions at the back of his throat. Back and back and squeezed down at the bottom of his stomach. Thrown into a bottomless pit for all he cared. Then he turned around in his seat to face Virgil.

“I’m sorry, your Dad didn’t mean to startle you,” Logan reached with an arm and wiped Virgil’s thick tears away, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You’re likely starving, here let me just–” He unclicked his seatbelt and wiggled into the backseat, “Join you.”

Logan took Virgil out of his car seat and into his arms. He bounced Virgil up and down on his knees, earning some giggles. No more tears for now. Logan reached for a bottle in his bag and immediately his son’s eyes sparkled.

Virgil sucked on the bottle as Logan cradled him. It almost felt private, in the back of his car in a crowded parking garage. The shadows hid them from the world. Logan curled up into his knees, an extra shield around Virgil. The grit in his eyes from exhaustion and the ache in his bones faded.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said again, the line of his mouth slanted down, “I suppose I learned _something_ from this whole debacle, _you_ are my top priority. I won’t let anything else distract me again,” Virgil blinked up at him with a coo, “It wasn’t Roman’s fault, he’s only a child who doesn’t know much better, but I’ll watch over you. You won’t get hurt anymore, I promise.”

The strains of the Imperial March startled him then pulled his phone out from his pocket. By the ringtone, it had to be his boss. Wonderful. _Falsehood_ , he hissed in his mind. Logan sighed as he pushed the button and propped his phone between his ear and shoulder. Quietly shushing Virgil’s coos to listen.

“Logan!!! Whatcha up to?” A sugary sweet voice replied, “How are you enjoying life on the outside, haha?”

“I’m spending quality time with my son,” Logan said, his professionalism the only thing keeping his tongue in cheek, “But I noticed something off about my payments recently. It appeared that I got a 40% cut in my pay? Is it some error or?”

He heard the whirs of a printer in the background, “Yeah so listen, I gave you two months paid paternity leave. Other places would give you two weeks,” The creak of Mr. Magenta’s smile could be heard through the line, “So I’m rather generous even _paying_ you at all. How does four-hour shifts work for you? More time with your son after all!”

“Sir, I’ve been one of your best workers for the past five years!” Logan’s temper burnt inside of him, the grip on Virgil’s bottle tightened, “Lowering my hours and docking my pay is unfair! You said I could have a six-month leave. You were fine with it a year ago–”

“Yeah I _was_...” Mr. Magenta said, the steady spurts of paper being printed in the background, “But you didn’t have a little demon a year ago,”

“What?”

“That’s right, you play by _my_ rules now,” Mr. Magenta snarled, all false cheeriness gone, “You do as I say or you and your _kid_ end up on the streets. And I’ll hire another desperate college dropout.”

“You sick sonva–”

The printer beeped.

“Oh! Looks like we’re out of ink,” Mr. Magenta giggled, “Want to try that again, Logan?”

“....What do you want? I’ll switch to the night shift, the whole shift if I have to, I need those hours. _Please_ reconsider.”

“Hmmmmm….”

Virgil gurgled, signifying he was done drinking. Logan took the bottle out and wiped away the milk mustache with his bib. The crackling silence on the other end made the back of his hairs prickle. If he lost this job, he didn’t know what he’d do. Perhaps pick up odd jobs again but with a _baby_ to boot? He just can’t–

“Alright!” Mr. Magenta said at last, “Night shifts for you and I better see you in two months. I rather like your manila folder, hate to shred all of that work. It’s not often to have one so thick with perfect quotas.”

“But my pay–”

“ **SHUT UP!** ” The call clicked to a stop.

Logan threw his phone down and swallowed down his yell. Not in front of Virgil. He needed to reevaluate his budget plans then. Damn it! As much as he wanted to curse and scream and cry; he didn’t want Virgil to feel like he’d done something wrong. Logan sighed, forcibly unlocking all tension from his body.

“Shush, it’s gonna be okay,” Logan said, raising Virgil over his shoulder to burp, “Let’s go home. I’ll read you something nice before you take your nap, okay? With lots of pictures. At least one of us will be happy today.”

Virgil cooed and reached up to pat his face. Those chubby fingers clumsily hanging onto his frames. The last of his anger faded away. Logan weakly smiled down at his son. He would find a way. For Virgil, he would do anything.

* * *

The camera clicked on, quietly whirring through the recording. It shook as Logan fumbled in his haste to capture the moment. The world blurred until the camera came to a stop. Focused from above onto Virgil, laying on his back in his crib. His eyes bright as he giggled as a large finger came down to tickle his stomach.

“Hello again,” Logan’s muffled giggles behind the camera, “Up from your nap already? Someone is excited about their first day of work with Daddy, huh?”

 **“** Guah!” Virgil grabbed his finger and started to suck on it.

“I know, I know it’s third dinner already,” Logan said, the camera zooming closer until Virgil’s brown eyes took up the whole screen, “Do you want formula or formula? Or chef’s choice, formula?”

Virgil kicked at the air as the camera zoomed out again, bubbly giggles as his answer. This was the perfect shot to capture a monumental milestone. He flipped onto his stomach for the camera to see as Logan gasped. A huge step forward in his development! Virgil giggled as he pounded his little fists against his blankets.

“Oh my god, _oh my god,_ ” The camera shook again as loud clicks filled the air, “ _I need to tell everyone_ **_right now_**.”

Ping after ping, text sounds flooded the audio output, but the phone camera kept faithfully recording. Virgil reached for a mini bear toy and started to suck on its ear. So oblivious to the giggles and pings of internal screaming from his father.

The camera shook as the pings became more insistent and finally clicked to a stop. End of recording labeled “Virgil’s first rollover at 4 months”. Preserved in an abandoned phone’s memory by the owner, Logan Crofters.

++++

The red light of a security camera turned on as it detected movement. The time stamp only a few hours after the previous recording. A man stepped out of an ancient car with a dark bundle on his chest and a bag slung across his shoulder. In the lowlight of a flickering street lamp, prim and _proper_ were the only words to describe the man.

[08:48 PM]

Logan resisted the urge to pull his navy trench coat tighter around himself in the night’s chill. Virgil slept soundly in a wrap against his chest, a dark beanie on his head to fend away the cold. Logan hurried a little faster to the doors of the building. Central heating so close! He slid his keycard without looking, so ingrained at this point, and the doors opened with a whoosh.

A lobby camera turned in its steady path to capture his entrance far below.

“Hey hey, look who’s back from vacation!” Keith whooped over his newspaper, “Really odd to see you at night, Mr. Crofters.”

“You’re telling me,” Logan replied as he walked up to the metal detectors that barred him from the elevators at the back, “I have opted to switch to the night shift so I don’t disrupt as many co-workers if Virgil cries or needs to be fed.”

“Virgil, huh?” Keith stood up, his dark curls falling in front of his face to look over his desk, “So who’s the cute little bug from? You got a girl?”

“No, and I’m not planning to get one,” Logan said tersely as he put a hand on Virgil’s back protectively, “He’s sleeping right now so I advise keeping your voice low. But it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.”

“Alright, same too,” Keith sat back down again, still smiling brightly at the tiny bundle, “Have a good night, sir. And don’t work too late!”

Logan waved as he walked through the detectors. Small talk, he never quite got the hang of it. He could hear the rustle of the newspaper being snapped back open. Keith and one other guard, Ned Fulmer, always switched their shifts. One or the other. For a mid-sized accounting firm, they really should hire more staff. And more competent ones too.

Then again, he shouldn’t talk ill of them. They hired him after all when no one else did. If they gave him a steady paycheck and a crappy office, it was better than nothing. And the benefits couldn’t be understated enough. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have Virgil right now.

The elevator camera watched him fidget to some outdated tune. The strains of too peppy music despite the miserable air of the whole building circled like carrion birds in his head. The lenses whirred and clicked, catching every minuscule twitch. The grey lights flickered as he glanced down at the buttons with smudged numbers worn down over the years. Not a single one replaced like not even the buttons could escape this infernal place. The man checked his watch as the elevator slowly went up the floors, the second hand counting down like to a final curtain call rather than the start of his shift.

The doors opened and he stepped out of the oppressive metal coffin to a dark floor. Only a scant few fluorescent lights of computers were left on. It cast the cubicles into boxes of shadows and darkness. The red light of an exit sign shone at the back of it. Logan swallowed at the almost menacing and frightening air of what once was so familiar. The dull lights made him almost ill as he remembered the neon meadow of baby toys at home. Then he shook his head, primal instincts couldn’t override his reasoning.

“Good evening,” Logan said as he navigated through the corporate maze, “Good evening, fellow associates. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” No reaction from the mindless drones, their eyes glazed over as they scrolled through datasheets, “No need to welcome me back.”

The _clack clack clack_ of keys rang against the silence, interrupted by the occasional yawn or creak. Logan straightened his shoulders, sharp angles of professionalism even if no one cared to notice or comment on. He held Virgil close to his chest like he protected a flame from a blustery wind. If the elevator was a coffin, the whole floor was a black hole of no escape. Not even light. Logan passed cubicles with no posters, pictures, or even a favorite novelty pen in sight. The night shift workers sat there glued to their screens like good little robots, click, clack, press enter, input, new row, the spreadsheets filled one by one.

Logan swallowed back the illogical instinct to retch at the display, instead of a sterile cubicle he saw the picked clean bones of a life. Of any hope. Mr. Magenta preferred his workers to have no distractions, and Logan braced his son closer at the thought. Why hadn’t he noticed the leeching effects of this monotony and fixed lifestyle before? Logan shook his head. He would stay for however long to support his son and perhaps find a better job. He ignored how long he’d been looking for a ‘better job’ for the past five years.

He hastily clicked the door of his office behind him. Away from the mechanical eyes and ears. The camera’s movement did not falter as it continued to sweep the office. Right to left, right to left, over and over, repetitive and consistent, just like the workers it monitored.

Logan slumped against the door. He made it. Stifling a sigh, he pulled out his chair from his nondescript desk and sat in it. The blinds behind him were drawn up to reveal the skyline, dull grey lines against an inky sky. Then again, not much different than the sickly smog that dirtied his view during his former day shift either. The only other lights came from his dreary coworkers, sterile white and colorless as the rest of this soul-sucking place.

He looked down at his sleeping son. Virgil squished his face deeper against his suit with a faint sigh. Right, he needed to change out of it immediately. No one would bother him for the next eight hours anyhow. He found that old sweatshirts were the preferred attire when taking care of babies. As wonderful Virgil was so far, he still drooled and spat like any other infant. Logan’s ever so present thin line softened into a smile as Virgil sniffled in his sleep.

He opened his satchel and pulled out seven different rolled up blankets from home. Budget-wise, it would’ve been smarter to opt for cheap scratchier blankets but in this rare instance he took the less logical choice and took the softer ones higher on the shelf. Spun out of clouds and dreams it advertised on the side. Logan had to take a moment to look at them. The folded blankets checkered his desk like a manicured garden of patterned dinosaurs and rainbows across it. A piece of home totally out of its element in the conditioned room where the stale air wasn’t the only thing that chilled him down to his bones.

He pulled out an empty filing cabinet, shallow but large enough, and buried it in the blankets. No cold metal would dare disturb his star darling’s sleep if he had anything to say about it. Logan fiddled with it for longer than necessary. It just–It had to be _perfect_. His fingers shoved and adjusted the blankets until it became a miniature nest. Hmm, good enough.

Now for the finishing touch. Logan carefully, oh so _carefully_ , pulled Virgil out from his papoose wrap. His son whimpered and his heart skipped a beat, Logan rubbed a hand down his back and shushed him before he could fuss. Virgil’s face scrunched for a few moments then smoothed out as he rocked against Logan’s chest. Logan let out a breath. Thank Newton, he truly wouldn’t know what to do if his son woke up. He rocked Virgil to a soft hum of Mozart around the room, each step quiet as a mouse.

Virgil remained peaceful, slumping almost boneless in his hold.

Logan set him down in the makeshift bed of a cabinet. Logan leaned over to give the lightest of pecks to his son’s head and murmured a good night. He didn’t know how Virgil could be so gentle and peaceful when he’d heard horror stories from Patton about Roman keeping him up for months and months. Although Virgil did have his fair share of sleepless nights, they became less and less frequent. This seemed to be aided by the fact that his Colic had settled, which was a relief to them both. He hoped Virgil would sleep through the night soon. His books noted it was a possibility at the five-month stage.

Hmm, he didn’t want to accidentally shut close the cabinet, so he stuck several rulers in the hole between the desk and cabinet. Adequate risk minimization of injury and accident. Virgil snuffled in his sleep, his fingers clutching at empty air. His thoughts melted at the sight like butter and far sweeter than jam. No, he had to remember this wasn’t home and he couldn’t dally on his objectives.

Logan was quick to shirk off his suit jacket after that, and he laid it around his chair before rummaging through his satchel for his folded sweater at the bottom. He doubted Mr. Magenta would check up on him; it was a documented fact that the vile man never came down from his office on the top floor and certainly not on nights. Best not to mix with the henchmen of course. Logan pulled out his sweater, the smooth beige fabric soft and easier on the eyes than the stiff lines of his monochromatic suit. He rubbed his fingers through it for a moment, appreciating the faint stains of milk and spit on it. A reminder of home.

But he had more important things to focus on and he needed to complete them before Virgil’s scheduled feeding in three hours. Logan unbuttoned his white collared dress shirt with deft fingers and an eye on the door. The unforgiving conditioned air bit at his exposed arms and through the thin wall of his tank. He bit back a shiver. In one graceful movement, he pulled on his sweater with a sigh. It even smelled like home, the thought surprised him. When did he think of his apartment as home? He shook his head and pulled his chair closer to his computer.

Logan pulled up his work emails and clicked through the various databases on his computer. His eyes already started to ache at the sight of the long rows. So much he missed on his paid fraternal leave.

But first...Logan took out his phone and to take a snap of Virgil. Hmm, it seemed his son’s nest was still missing something. Logan pulled out Cow from the bottom of his bag and tucked it in next to Virgil. Perfect. Now adequate to capture this adorable moment in time.

_First father-son day at work today!_

The grainy photo had heart and stars stickers all over it. Patton sent back a simple thumbs up. Logan’s smile grew bigger as another text came through.

_Roman doesn’t want to sleep yet, monsters in the closet again._

A slightly blurred selfie of Patton with a flyswatter and Roman peeking out from his blankets in the background appeared on his screen. Patton sat in the entrance of the closet from what he remembered of Roman’s room. Logan pressed a thumb onto the photo and saved it to his archive. Roman was so _brave_ some days, but all kids had fears, including the ‘prince’ himself. But he had nothing to be afraid of when his Dad was there. Always ready to the rescue.

He only hoped he could be half of the great father Patton was.

+++++

Patton giggled as he turned on the old VHS camera recorder from his college days. He flipped open the screen, a blue screen flashes before it showed the adorable scene before him. He muffled his giggles as he pressed the zoom in.

_[12:43 Jun 24 2019]_

Roman laid on his stomach, eye to eye to his arch-nemesis, one Virgil Crofters. Six months old and full of life. Golly, he remembered when the poor kiddo was so quiet.

Virgil laid on his stomach for the required ‘tummy time’ that Logan talked about. His eyes watching Roman’s attentively like they were a pair of shiny keys.

Roman covered his eyes, “Oh no, where did I go?”

Virgil giggled.

“Peek a boo!” Roman said with a gummy grin, “Did I getcha?”

“Hehehehe, peka!” Virgil babbled, “Pepe, pepe, pee!!!”

“Logan is going to love this,” Patton said as he squealed with excitement, fiddling with the camera controls to capture every _adorable_ giggle both of their sons had, “It’s going to be so fun to edit this for your first birthday, oh yes it will! Oh yes it will!!”

Roman groaned, “Daaaaaaddd!!! You’re so embarashing!”

“It’s embarr- _assing_ , kiddo,” Patton said, then waved a hand in front of the camera, “You’re doing great, honey!! We can totally take care of little Virge for a bit.”

“ **ASS!** ” Virgil shouted with all the enthusiasm of a new discovery, “Ass, ash, shh!!”

“DAAAAD, HE SAID A BAD WORD!!” Roman snickered as he pointed at Virgil, “Look who’s in trooooubblleeeeeee!!!”

“N-no he didn’t say anything bad,” Patton said, his voice shaky behind the camera, “How ‘bout I give you ice cream tonight and watch some movies huh? I’ll give Logan this a little later after I figure out how to edit again…” Nervous laughter echoed, “Just to give the very best moments of his adorable son!”

The picture froze, the snickers cut off by the end of the recording.

+++++

“What are you doing?” Logan’s face squinted up into the camera, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no, don’t let me stop you!” Nate said, his snicker deep and graveled, “Do you want me to hide behind the door again? Virgil seemed to like it! Come on, pleaaaaassseeee?”

Logan blushed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Virgil babbled at the mention of his name. Almost squirming in Logan’s hold until he had to kick off the rocking chair again to calm him down. Nate shoved his phone’s camera into Logan’s face, a rosy blush crawling up until–

“Fine fine,” Logan caved, then looked down at Virgil, “But for him. You’re right, he does seem to enjoy it. And he does require intellectual stimulation, especially at the six-month mark.”

“Yes!”

Nate held true to his hold and shuffled away to give him space. He propped his phone up to catch the picturesque image of a father cradling his son in the room, lit up by soft blue lamps. Toys laid scattered on the ground along with a playmat in one corner. Then Logan did that _smile_ again, so private and reserved for Virgil only.

He couldn’t _believe_ Logan was letting him catch it on camera! Forever bottled in time as a wonderful moment to the robotic man he once knew. The room hushed, even Virgil’s giggles quietened. Logan drew in a breath as his whole posture changed and the sharp lines around his figure smudged into something indiscernible. Almost like he was dropping his lifelong act as a boring square.

“ _Baby mine, don’t you cry_ ,” Logan’s voice gentle as raindrops and honey, “ _Baby mine, dry your tears, rest your head close to my heart,_ ” Virgil’s eyes slipped closed as Logan cradled him closer, rubbing his cheek gently, “ _Never to part, oh baby mine_ …”

Logan kissed the top of his forehead. Virgil’s stubby little hands clutched at his blue sweatshirt, the wrinkles smoothing out on his face where they remained on his shirt. His tiny puffs of breath slowed into sleep, entering his second scheduled nap of the day. The rocking chair creaked to a stop as Logan hummed soft notes to his lullaby.

He stood up, still slowly rocking Virgil in his arms. Then walked over to his crib and set Virgil down. The camera strained to catch Logan’s whisper as he hovered over his son. His lips moved but Nate couldn’t decipher it at the moment.

The camera could:

_“I’ll never leave you, Virgil. Not until the day I die. I love you so much.”_

Logan turned around then a blush overtook his face again as he noticed the camera.

“Always so camera shy!” Nate giggled as Logan marched over. His hand reaching out toward the camera, his palm blotting out everything. And then–

The phone ran out of battery.

[Recording lost.]


End file.
